The Double Bind
by itsjustme1217
Summary: With the help of an abusive father, and a passive mother, Edward Anthony Masen, Jr. has, over time, found a way to cope with life. The others help him in dealing with love, anger, and the interactions necessary to make it through any given day. It's been such a difficult life, and they just want to survive it. This is their story. Welcome to The Double Bind.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome to the Double Bind! We do have to warn you that this story isn't for the faint of heart. We've had to rate this story as M because of the violence, language, sex, and situations that this story holds. Please don't take the rating lightly.**

**Thanks for taking the journey with us into a Twilight fiction that reaches through to more than Twilight. We have not only Edward, but all of the characters that Robert Pattinson has played to date (with the exception of Eric Maddox from Mission Blacklist). Each chapter's title is a quote spoken by the character in the respective movie.**

**This chapter holds not only Edward Anthony Masen(Jr. - Twilight), Rawdy Crawley (Vanity Fair), and Giselher (Ring of the Nibelungs, or Curse of the Ring) . For more info on our story and the characters within, and/or Rob's characters and movies, please check our profile page for links to our blogs (story and fan).**

**We want to let you know, that this story is finished. We intend on posting one chapter a week until the end (real life not getting in the way, we hope).**

**And before we start, we'd like to thank our wonderful, braTTy beTTa, kiTT (Tongue Twied). Without her guidance and editing skills, this story would not have come together as well as it did. Thank you!**

**~ItsJustMe1217 & RPfangirlJR**

**-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO**

**We do not own Twilight. Sadly. That Belongs totally to S. Meyer. We do not own Rob's movie characters. They are of his bringing to life, and the screenwriters' imaginations. And lastly, we do not own ROB. We wish. ROB is a man who totally rules our worlds, and we do our best to obey.**

**This story, the images for it are entirely ours.**

**-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO**

***~*I HOPE YOU'LL GRANT ME YOUR INDULGENCE. -Rawdy Crawley, Vanity Fair*~***

You mustn't read and yet you have to read.

This is the double bind.

It's wrong to act and it's wrong not to. There's no escape and whatever happens it's your fault. When Daddy tells you that he loves you, that you are special, but then hurts you horribly; when you're told that you'll go to Hell if you tell your secret; when you are instructed to honor your father and mother despite their betrayal and when you know that you are responsible for making these horrors happen, you're in a double bind. The double bind, repeated over and over, is a living contradiction that simply blows your mind.

*~***Anthony***~*

My head is pounding. I try to open my eyes but with every crushing blow my eyes automatically blink closed again. Damn thing feels like it weighs fifty pounds. The smell. _What is that smell?_ I lie completely still and close my eyes again tightly, trying to will away the blinding pain. After a few long, excruciating minutes, I realize I can't just lay here. I have to get up and do...whatever it is I am supposed to be doing. I feel that there is something I need to finish but I have no idea what it is. The thought nags me, digging at the back of my subconscious, making my head pound harder.

_Pussy, you've had headaches before. _

It's true. I often have headaches, some more debilitating than this one. I've got to get up, my mind tells me the consequences could be severe if I don't. I slowly open my other eye and try to gain my bearings. _What is that smell?_ Nothing else on my body seems to hurt but the pounding of my head is so severe that I may not notice any other pains for a while. That's good-different, but good. A great deal of the time, my unexplained and sudden headaches are accompanied by other bodily aches and pains, sometimes gashes and bruises too. The most troubling part is that I can never remember how I got the wounds. I tend to black out and when I wake up, I have lost hours, sometimes days, of time. It's disconcerting, but what can I do?

_Time is an elusive son-of-a-bitch; it flies, it crawls, and sometimes, it disappears. _

I don't want to cause any more trouble for my family. Money has been tight and I have noticed that things are steadily getting worse. The water was shut off two weeks ago and I don't reckon I have had a shower since then. I feel disgusting but it's not that different from the repelling feeling emanating from the inside of me that no amount of water could possibly rinse away. _It's normal right? That's how all people feel? _It must be because that's how I feel all the time. My dad's been laid off for a couple of years now and with no prospects in sight, my parents have enough to deal with.

Upon remembering my parents, I sit up so quickly that my head spins.

I feel like I might vomit but I don't think I have anything to expel. I hang my head in hands and try to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth to steady myself. My hands, against my face, feel wet and sticky. _What the hell?_

I remove my hands and look down. _Blood. _My hands are covered in blood. I stare at the congealing liquid drying into the creases of my hands and fingers in some places but still trickling down my arms in others. The smell, I now recognize as the metallic scent of blood, fills the room and the need to vomit is an overpowering reaction. I dry heave and my stomach contracts violently. I wrap my arms around my middle, trying to hold myself together.

I can see tiny nicks and cuts up and down my arms and, on my hands. I look down my body and see that my pants are ripped down one leg from my thigh to my shin. My shirt is hanging in tatters and I only have on one shoe.

The blood, it's everywhere. My clothes are soaked and suddenly I can't breathe. _What the hell happened here?_ I look around me and see that I am in the kitchen floor of my home. There is blood all around me on the floor and red hand prints on the faded white walls.

_Red_.

I rack my brain for any tiny piece of information that I can conjure to explain this but come up empty. The last thing I can remember is standing in front of the refrigerator with my stomach growling. An urge to run hits me so hard that I am on my feet before the thought is even complete in my mind. The kitchen is a total disaster. There are broken dishes on the countertops and floor. The window above the sink is broken. The refrigerator door stands open and askew. Jugs filled with water are overturned, and some of the water is leaking out onto the floor, mingling with the blood and spreading it further.

I walk around the island in the middle of the space and slip in a puddle of blood, hitting my chin on the counter and letting out a yelp of pain as I go down hard. I wince as my hands reach out in front of me to break my fall and broken glass pierces my already bloody skin. I sit up rapidly, scooting out of the puddle and come face to face with my mother's form sprawled in front of the open fridge.

Her eyes are open but she doesn't move when I call out to her. Slowly, I reach my hand out and touch her shoulder. I give a little push but she doesn't move. Bracing myself, I reach out further and feel along her neck for a pulse. Nothing. My legs kick out in front of me and I scramble away from her, my feet leaving trails in the puddled blood.

"Oh God," my anguished scream echoes through the house.

Deep breaths, in and out, in and out. I have no idea how long I sit with my back to the wall, breathing and trying to make sense of the utter fuckery around me.

Deep breaths quickly give way to sobs and my heart feels torn in two-like part of me is dead as well.

"Your heart can't possibly break when it was never really whole to begin with," a voice in my head growls.

"I loved her. She...she was my mother," I desperately reason with myself aloud.

'Is love supposed to bleed?" another voice asks quietly.

I shake my head to rid myself of the confusion and anguish I feel.

_Where do I go?_

_What do I do?_

_Where is my dad?_

I don't want to think about that. I push it away. Way in the back of my mind, up the staircase and behind a brick wall is a steel file cabinet where I keep the things that I cannot deal with. I lock the scary and horrible truths of life there where no one can find them-not even me.

"Get up. Get up. Get up," I hear it growing louder and louder and realize it is my own voice. In a panic, I leap from the floor and run for the bathroom. The blood on my skin is drying rapidly and feels too constricting. I throw off my shirt and kick off my other shoe as I race down the hall, intent on getting this blood off of me. My throat feels tight and it's getting harder and harder to breathe.

I make it to the bathroom, throw open the door and twist the knobs on the sink. Nothing. I forgot about the water being shut off. I can't rinse the blood off and I'm suffocating.

"Suffer. Suffocate. Suffer. Suffocate," I find myself chanting these words, over and over. It relaxes me somewhat, although I'm not sure why.

I place my hands on the grimy vanity and look down at them. Blood. I jerk my head up and look in the mirror. My face and neck are caked in it. Red. As I watch, a few drops drip down my forehead and into my left eye. Suddenly, red is all I see. I scan the room for something to wipe my eyes out with but all that's here is the faded yellow shower curtain surrounding the tub. It's pulled open slightly and half of the curtain is swept inside while the rest hangs over the lip of the tub. Dread fills my stomach as I step closer and see a foot dangling over the edge.

"Dad?"

I don't want to see but I have to look. My feet move of their own accord, propelling me nearer.

The naked body of my father is sprawled in the empty tub, his left arm bent at an unnatural angle behind him. A bucket with water is between his legs and empty milk jugs litter the floor.

"At least, he got to clean up," I say out loud, and then I hear myself laughing. The sound seems to come from far away, hysterical and wild.

I see the tattoo on his right bicep and it causes me to laugh harder, clutching at my stomach. Most people have the names of the people they love tattooed on their bodies; my father has his own name, Edward, scrawled on the muscle in flowing black script.

My eyes travel higher and the laughter dies in my throat. The part of the shower curtain that is pulled in the stall is wrapped around his face so tightly, I can see the outline of his features, his eyes cold and lifeless and his mouth agape. Vomit erupts from my mouth and all over his cold body.

"Oh Dear God," I pray, "I can't handle this. I can't. I'm strong on the surface but not all the way through."

Backing out of the room, I keep going, through the house and out the door. Faster and faster, I move, around the house and into the woods. I run until, my feet my won't carry me any further and I sink to the ground under a maple tree.

My chest hurts, my stomach is sick, and my head is thumping. My body is a road map of pain.

"_King of pain,_" a voice whispers.

I lean my head back against the trunk of the tree and watch the snow pepper lazily from the sky and through the branches. On one limb, above my face, hangs a single red leaf.

Red.

The color makes me feel ill again.

No, it makes me feel like a sinner.

My head hurts so bad, I can't keep my eyes open. I allow them to drift closed but I can still feel my left eye twitching wildly. The spasm spreads through my body, racking me with tremors, that causes me to slump over and curl into myself. There is only one place to go. One place I can escape.

In my mind, I climb the stairway and step behind the brick wall, making sure to stay well away from the padlocked cabinet.

*~***Sam Uley***~*

A quiet night. I am thankful for it. Not like there's ever much going on in our small town, but it seems that lately, business has been picking up. Not a good thing when you are in 'the protect and serve' business like I am.

I pull the squad car outside of the Forks Café and order Paul to run in and get our coffees and sandwiches. He grumbles but does as he's told. I pick up the newest issue of _Fisherman Magazine_ from the center console and flip through the pages, stopping on a full page ad for the Olympic Peninsula Steelhead fishing competition. Two more weeks, and I would be on vacation and praying to win the grand prize of ten thousand dollars.

"What are you smiling about?" Paul asks as he sits in the car and pulls out my coffee, handing it to me.

"Just thinking of my vacation in a few weeks," I answer, taking my coffee and sipping it slowly.

Paul hands me my sandwich, and as I take it from him, he tells me, "Emily says hello."

I set my coffee into the cup holder and take my sandwich from Paul. As I take a bite, I give him a '_Hmmmm_.'

"So when are you going to ask her out?"

I shrug and take another bite, savoring the delightful club sandwich made especially for me by Emily with her own mayonnaise recipe. As I move the sandwich to my mouth for another bite, a call interrupts my peaceful meal.

"Deputy Chief Uley… we have a 415-B, " the dispatcher notifies us.

I pick up the handheld unit of the police radio. "This is Uley. Proceed."

"Sorry to interrupt your quiet night, Sam, but there's a domestic disturbance call that just came into the station a moment ago," the dispatcher replies. "I thought you'd like to take it."

"Location?" I ask as Paul packs up our sandwiches and fastens his seat belt.

"I'm sure you already know, Chief. The Masen place."

I glance to Paul and roll my eyes. "Thanks. We got it."

I replace the handset and fasten my seatbelt as Paul says, "I can't believe it. Third fucking night in a row!"

I start the car up, put it into drive and turn on the lights but no siren. I don't want them to know I'm coming. I was just hoping that I could get there and find that man in the act, something that would allow me to take him down once and for all.

It's something we have been dealing with for years now in our small town. It's like our fucking small town secret. Everyone knows but no one speaks of it.

Edward Masen beats his kid.

I have been trying for years to help out Mrs. Masen – Elizabeth – and her son, Anthony, but they never say a word against him. They act as though I'm the crazy one. It's frustrating as hell, because without their word, I have nothing concrete to arrest the bastard on.

It's not long before I am pulling into Red Alder Heights, a newer, upper middle class suburb of Forks. Most of the houses here are two–story and fairly grand, although they are not mansions. The cars in the driveways are lower-end BMWs and Volvos with a sprinkling of some Jeeps and larger SUVs. The neighborhood is decorated for Christmas with lights on almost every house. The lawns are nicely manicured, but this night they are covered with snow as we experience the first snowy days of the winter season.

Turning on Juniper Circle, I make my way to the last house on the street, at the apex of the circle. The large, sprawling one-story stone house has a few lights on as we pull into the driveway. The clouds are hanging low, almost touching the tree tops of the forest of tall trees behind the house. _Eerie_.

Paul and I get out of the squad car. As I slide my baton into my belt, Paul remarks, "This is fucking giving me the creeps. It's too quiet."

I nod in agreement. Something wasn't feeling right. Usually on a call, we hear yelling, screaming, crying… something that gives their secret away. But not tonight… Tonight, the silence is deafening. I take a deep breath and begin crunching through the snow towards the front door. I look around then knock.

Paul and I wait…

No answer.

I ring the bell and yell, "Mr. Masen, it's Deputy Chief Sam Uley with the Forks Police Department. We had a disturbance call come in."

A few more moments pass, and there is still no answer. I look at Paul and tell him that we're going in. He draws his weapon, as do I, and on the count of three we ram our shoulders into the right door of the double-door entry. The door flies open with no resistance and we stop dead cold in the foyer.

"The door wasn't even locked," I say, making a mental note of the odd fact.

I point to the dining room behind Paul and tell him, "You check that way, I'll start in the room behind me. If you see anything, call for me."

Paul nods and starts walking slowly through the dining room, his weapon is by his head, ready to use, if need be.

"Mr. Edward Masen, this is Deputy Chief Uley. There are currently two officers in your home. Please stay where you are until we come across you!" I yell as I slowly step into the formal living room. I check around the curtains, the unlit Christmas tree, and around the furniture to find no one at all.

The second I step back into the foyer, I hear Paul scream, "Sam! We have a woman down!"

I put my gun into the holster and run the same direction that Paul walked moments before. I turn the corner, almost running into Paul who had the kitchen blocked with his arm.

I stop and he points to the woman on the floor in front of him. Elizabeth Masen. Her eyes are open, but dilated. She is covered in lacerations and blood, with blood drying and puddled on the floor below her.

"Pulse?" I ask and Paul shakes his head sadly.

"What's with the streaks?" I asked, nodding towards the long tracks made from someone sliding in the red pool that extended from Elizabeth's lifeless body.

I tell Paul not to touch anything and to call for backup as I walk back around to get to the other side of the kitchen. I make my way through the dining room, then the foyer and into the family room, where I see a trail of bloodied footprints going from the kitchen to the hall on the opposite side of the room.

"Fuck! Paul, I need you to close off the house! I'm going to follow this trail!" I instruct him, redrawing my weapon. I carefully enter the hallway, trying not to disturb the prints on the carpeting.

"Mr. Masen! Anthony!" I call out, hoping to get an answer but only receiving silence in return.

I slowly walk down the hall, passing a shoe and a discarded, blood-soaked shirt, and see the trail turn into a bathroom on the right side. I carefully step inside and am horrifically shocked at what I am seeing. There are bloody handprints all over the counter and the sink. Blood is smeared on the mirror, as well as splattered across the floor.

I hear a gurgle and turn my attention to the bathtub. My mind isn't processing as fast as it normally does, and it takes me a moment to realize that it is Mr. Masen wrapped in that dingy yellow shower curtain in the tub and covered with vomit. I try not to step on the blood as I make my way to the tub, carefully reach my hand down to check him, and pull it back in surprise as another gurgle escapes him. I reach for his neck and feel the slightest pulse beating beneath the curtain.

Half of me wants him to die there for everything he has done. He didn't deserve to live. He was an asshole who beat his son and had him so fucking terrified that he couldn't… he wouldn't ask for help. His wife was so afraid to say anything herself that she virtually withdrew from the world. I don't think I saw her in town once over the past few years. God only knows what he did to them in this house behind these closed doors.

And no matter how fucking much I want him to die, I can't do it. It goes against my core… my internal promise to protect and serve the citizens of Forks. Saying a quick prayer, I pull my pocketknife from my belt and cut a slit into the shower curtain and loosen what was wrapped around his neck to help him breathe.

Embry shows up in the doorway and reports, "Jared is outside lining the police tape around the front perimeter. The investigation unit is on the way."

"Call the medics and tell them we need another ambulance. Mr. Masen is still with us. You stay with him. I need to find Anthony… I pray to God that he's still alive."

Embry nods and takes my place at Masen's side. I look back into the hallway, looking for a hint or clue as to where to go next. Then I notice something a few doors down on the jamb along the left hand side of the hallway – a small streak of blood about shoulder height.

I go into the room – their office – and look around. There are blood covered papers on the desk that are being blown by the light, icy breeze blowing in through the back door. I notice that the handle and curtain on the glass door is covered with blood as well. I look out into the backyard and see droplets and footprints that are being covered as another round of snow begins.

"Anthony!" I call out into the large yard. "Anthony, are you out here?"

I receive no answer, but my gut is telling me to follow the prints. I order into the walkie and say, "Close off the entire area. I'm following the prints that run through the back yard. Still no sign of Anthony."

"Yes, Chief," Jared's voice replies.

Keeping my weapon ready, I slowly make my way through the backyard. My feet are crunching in the snow with every step I take. My breath is coming out in cold, smoky billows as my breathing picks up speed. I quickly follow the prints that are leading me through the yard and into the dense forest that extends beyond.

I can't tell how long I've been following the trail before I got within earshot of the stream, but it's not long after the trail stops cold, buried under the blanket of the new snow.

I mumble an expletive, and the curse floats in a cold haze from my mouth. I lean against a tree for a moment, thinking of where to go from here. _Where should I look? Did I miss a turn back there?_

Just as I'm about to continue, I hear a small breath hitch from behind me. I turn and notice Anthony Masen; he's curled into a small half-naked ball against a large maple tree. I approach him slowly. "Anthony, are you alright, son? What happened? Is there someone out here with you?"

He looks at me blankly. I have never seen him look so empty… so disconnected before.

I click the button on the walkie that's attached to my jacket. "Paul, I found Anthony Masen. We're out beyond the property line in the forest about thirty feet away from the stream. Oh God, he's covered in blood. He seems to be in shock. His arms and hands are covered in contusions and lacerations. I need you to get the medics out here ASAP. That son of a bitch Masen finally did it. Once he leaves, make sure Embry notifies the Chief of all of this. He'll want to know. I'm staying with Anthony until he is on that gurney."

"Yes, Chief. The second ambulance is pulling away with Mr. Masen right now. I'll radio for a third."

I pull Anthony towards me and I notice that he feels sweaty and cold. I look closely and see that the area around his lips have a bluish tone; he is pale white otherwise. His breathing is rapid and I fear that he may be starting to suffer from the cold as well as being in shock.

I start to wrap him in my jacket and I see a sight that would put _me_ into shock. There are all sorts of bruises along his ribs and abdomen that I had never seen before. He leans against me, and as I start to wrap my jacket around him, I see the same bruising all over his back.

I finally wrap him snugly in my jacket and keep him close to me to help keep him warm.

As we sit there, I wonder how many more bruises are being masked by blood, how many bones are broken this time, and how much pain he endured at his father's hands. I want Masen dead.

"Help is coming, Anthony. It's almost here," I tell him quietly, although I'm not sure he can hear or understand one word I am saying.

*~***Anthony***~*

The red flashing lights of the ambulance terrified me but I was so cold and so tired as I slouch and allow Officer Uley to help me into the back of the truck. He's climbed in behind me and holds my hand, telling me everything would be okay. I have no idea what he means but I am calmed by his voice.

The hospital was bright-too bright and I had to squint my eyes. They put me in a room alone and for that I was thankful. A small, balding man who said I could call him Dr. Marcus takes x-rays. He speaks softly to me, explaining what he is doing, and I allow myself to drift off while he did his job. When he is finished, he dims the lights in the room and says I can take a shower if I want.

The hot water felt so good. I stood under the spray and watched as the dirt and redness from my body swirled down the drain. The small bar of soap they have allowed me smells clean and and I wanted to be like that-fresh and sweet. The cuts on my hands and arms stung when the pulsing water hits them and I'm a sick bastard because I like the way it hurts. I don't want to anger anyone by taking too long so I finish quickly, put on the gown they've given me, and exit the small bathroom.

As I sit on the edge of the bed, an elderly, grey-haired woman in pink stripes carries in a tray of food. The smell is delicious, my stomach rumbling. The woman laughs heartily and uncovers meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans, a small roll, and green jello on the tray and my eyes well with tears at the sight.

"Awww sweetie," she coos and reaches to ruffle my hair.

Her voice is loud, startling me, and I flinch from her touch. Her eyes become very sad and I feel bad for making her feel that way. I hadn't meant to and I smile slightly letting her know how sorry I am. After that, she sits by my bed while I eat and seems to make an effort to keep her voice muted. She encourages me not to eat too quickly but I can't help it. I shovel the food in my mouth, barely chewing before I swallow.

"When was the last time you ate sweetie?" she asks. I think about it for a moment but I can't remember, and it hurts my head when I try, so I just shrug my shoulders.

I am still hungry when the food is gone but I don't want to seem ungrateful by asking for more. She removes the tray and I recline back into the pillows, suddenly so overwhelmed with exhaustion. I hold very still and let the lady cover me up with the thin, white blanket, feeling a strange tugging in my chest at the action as tears trickle down my cheeks.

"Close your eyes sweetie. You're safe. I promise," the lady says with conviction.

I vaguely remember hearing that before.

It was a lie. It was always a lie.

The light is streaming through the windows when I hear a noise that wakes me from a terrible dream in which huge flocks of sparrows were sweeping down from the sky, hitting windows and bouncing off cars hard enough to leave dents. I open my eyes and realize it is a knock at the door but pull the covers closer to my chin, feeling exposed and disoriented from the dream.

The door opened a fraction and Officer Uley poked his head in. Noticing that I am awake, he strolls calmly into the room.

I smile when he nears me, he has always been nice to me and I like him.

"_He's a cop, not your friend. Don't trust him,"_ a voice whispers assuredly.

My smile falters and I scoot down in the bed farther, shrinking away from him.

The officer didn't seem to notice my hesitance and continues to foot of my bed. "Did you sleep well Anthony?" he asks with honest concern in his voice.

"_Lie,"_ the voice sneered.

I nod, not knowing what to say. My head is begins to hurt again.

Officer Uley nods too, looking guiltily away for a moment. "Son, I need to ask you some questions. I think you know that," he says, raising his arm to rub at the back of neck.

"_Lie better,_" sneers the voice.

Officer Uley pulls up a chair from against the wall to my bedside and takes out his pen and paper. He sighs heavily and returns his gaze to me, "Can you tell me what happened last night, Anthony?"

"I-I-don't know...I..." I concentrate, trying to think of the best way to respond but before I can pick out any words Officer Uley speaks again, "Was there someone else in your home? Did your father have someone over? A business associate maybe?"

"Ummm..." He seems to want me to say something, expects it almost, but I'm not sure what. I search my mind, through the shelves of stored memories. On the floor, in the section referenced as 'folklore,' I find a Polaroid photo. The photo shows no subject. Instead, overexposure had turned the square photo completely red.

"Something bad happened...," I sputter out, feeling my legs and arms begin to shake violently.

"_Bring on the shackles._..," the voice speaks sarcastically.

"Well, we noticed that the front door was unlocked, but there is no physical evidence that someone other than your father, your mother, and you had been in your home," the officer leads, watching me wearily.

"Anthony, just calm down son. I only need you to tell me the truth." He considers a moment, looks me pointedly in the eye and adds, "No matter what that truth is, okay?"

I agree wearily with a nod.

"Look, let's start with your mother. Do you know what happened to her?"

"No," I moan out, covering my eyes with my hands as rocked, trying to control the tremors.

"She was found in the kitchen in front of the refrigerator. Do you know what state she was found in?"

"No," I said loudly, "I don't know. I can't...can't...r-rrremember."

"Anthony...," Officer Uley speaks hesitantly.

"No, no, no, no," I chant.

The door pushes open and Dr. Marcus barges in, demanding, "Officer, what do you think you're doing? My patient requires quiet." The doctor pauses then speaks more softly, "This boy has been through a lot."

"I know that doctor. I'm only doing my job," Officer Uley says, suddenly sounding unsure. "I want to help him," he adds conspiratorially.

I clear my throat, easily feeling in charge now that I have relinquished control. Another voice speaks now. His voice will be just like my own but more authoritative. The door to the memories is open but I bypass it and instead retreat up the stairs, thankful to be able to breathe better with every stair I climb.

"Anthony...," both men ask tentatively, stepping toward the bed.

"My name, Sir, is Lord Rawdy Crawley, and I'll thank you both to exit my chambers immediately."

The two men stare at me in awe, then exchange a sad, knowing look before turning to leave.

"Punishment for your rudeness will be swift! Send in my guards!" I call after them.

Days have passed as I sit in this wretched place. There is no peace to be had as they refuse to leave me alone. I have tried to be patient, as a gentleman, I hold my tongue, but the restraint on my temper is wearing thin.

A knock at the door causes me to grit my teeth in annoyance. Dr. Marcus and Officer Uley, as they have introduced themselves, enter. They hesitate by the door, increasing my frustration.

"What say you?" I beckon, ready to put the preamble behind us and move forward from the dread of these chambers.

"We'd like to ask you a few more questions Ant...er...Rawdy," the doctor speaks first.

Officer Uley speaks up then, stepping closer. "Just please tell me the truth, Anthony. There is no need to lie or pretend. I know what you've been through Anthony, and I will help you, I swear to you I will."

"I make no false pretenses. What are these accusations?" I demand.

"We know that you were the only one in the house Anthony," the officer says sadly. "I understand. I do. I just need you to tell me the truth."

"I do not know what you are speaking of. And my name is not Anthony, it would bode well for you to remember that," I reply harshly.

The officer and the doctor convene, whispering amongst themselves. My eyes begins to spasm as I take in the display of brazen discourtesies.

When Officer Uley turns back to me, his face is a mask of anger, marching toward my bedside.

"I know you Anthony Masen and I have tried to help you but I will not be played for a fool. Now, tell me the truth," he spits out.

"I don't..." my voice quells in my throat, my muscles seizing abruptly.

"Tell me Anthony. Tell me right now," he yells.

The sound of his angry voice focuses on me, sending shivers up my spine. Suddenly I am wracked with trembling. Tighter and tighter, my body clenches as I fade away from this ambivalent tribulation.

The man standing over me is frightening, but I am a warrior and therefore show no weakness.

"Your stance suggests war. Shall we draw swords?" I challenge, moving to stand from the bed.

The doctor moves to stop me, asking, "Are you alright Anthony?"

"You, my good sir, may call me Giselher."

****The inside of Anthony's mind, as described, is a tribute to Stephen King's 'Dreamcatcher' which, of course, refers back to Twilight.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Before we begin, we'd like to thank our wonderful beTTa exTTraordinaire, kiTT (Tongue Twied) for her hard work on making sure each chapter is up to par.**

**~ItsJustMe1217 & RPfangirlJR**

**-oOo-OoO-oOo- Our Disclaimer -OoO-oOo-OoO**

**We do not own Twilight. Sadly. That Belongs totally to S. Meyer. We do not own Rob's movie characters. They are of his bringing to life, and the screenwriters' imaginations. And lastly, we do not own ROB. We wish. ROB is a man who totally owns us. We are at his mercy. This story and the images for it are entirely ours. Now we leave you to enjoy...**

**-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-**

**I believe in living life by the sword. ~ Giselher, Ring of the Nibelungs**

**-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO**

**Forest Meadow Mental Health Facility**

**CLINIC NOTES**

**Physician: **Carlisle Cullen, M.D.

**Time: **7:30 am, Monday, January 3rd

**Ward/Floor: **S. Meyer Wing, 5th Floor, minimum security

**OBSERVATIONS**

**Brandon, Mary A.**

Mary Alice was awake before 7 a.m. again this morning. She is already involved with a tea party set she made from her paper and crayon stash. She still has the mind of a 10-year-old child although she is almost 19 years old. Increase adult interaction throughout the day, speaking only in adult terms that a child wouldn't comprehend.

**Hale, Rosalie**

Rosalie's depression induced by post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) seems to have worsened over the weekend. She had managed to get scissors during the day yesterday, for the second time since she's been here, which were removed from her possession overnight. She was caught by the night orderly, Felix Volturi, trying to cut all of her hair off again. Her self-hatred is increasing by the day. She needs extra security at night and will have to be monitored throughout the day as well. Consider upping her Zoloft dosage to the full 50 mg.

**Whitlock, Jasper**

Jasper is still under the impression that he is a Civil War Major for the Texas Confederate Army. He spent the last evening planning a battle near San Antonio. He is still not seen as a threat to the other patients and keeps mostly to himself. Continue monitoring throughout the day, as every day. Consider increasing his dosage of clozapine.

**Newton, Michael**

Michael Newton was moved to the Stream Song wing in the fourth floor medium security ward as was Eric Yorke, for causing problems and making violent threats against the patients here over the weekend.

**PLAN**

During group therapy, try to get Alice to interact beyond the realm of a child. Maybe introduce talks about boys and dating, which may also help Rosalie Hale try to reintegrate the thoughts of being around men again. Maybe talk to Rosalie about the possibility of starting counseling with her family present. I am still unsure about Jasper's therapy route until we try the newer dosage for his meds.

**-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-**

*~*** Carlisle's POV** *~*

"Here you go, Emmett. Please make sure you put this one in the correct file," I say, handing our day orderly my notes from the morning rounds.

"Dr. C, it was only that one time," Emmett whines in response.

"Yes, well we don't want to go through another 404 moment, do we?"

"No, sir," he answers.

Before I could I get three feet towards my office, he is calling me back to the desk. "Yes, Emmett?"

"Dr. C, I forgot to tell you that we have a new patient coming in a few hours. Here's his file."

I take the folder from Emmett with a quick thank you and leave for my office. I flip through the information as I walk, only remembering my new patient's name and his ailment.

Anthony Masen. Suspected Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) Also known as Multiple Personality Disorder.

**-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-**

*~* **Giselher's POV ***~*

"Where are you taking me?" I demand. When the men in strange white clothes came and told me it was time to go home, I had assumed they would be bringing me to the castle. I see now, I should have been skeptical. I shan't make the mistake twice.

The men had pushed me into a large, metallic box with wheels and I had been delivered to _this _wretched place.

"Traitors," I scream at them when we arrive. I should have known better, my brother always says I am too quick to trust. I study the men as we walk through a corridor, committing to memory any information that could possibly aid the warriors in overthrowing this clan.

We stop when a light haired man approaches and speaks with the traitors. He wears different clothes but is clearly a leader of their tribe.

"Sir, what is the meaning of this?" I interrupt. _How dare they speak amongst themselves, ignoring my royalty._

"Anthony, this is a hospital, and I am Dr. Carlisle Cullen." The leader speaks holding his hand out toward me.

I stare at his hand as I cross my arms. _Surely this man does not expect that I would show him my clan's ritual handshake_. "I know nothing of this Anthony. My name is Giselher."

The sound of footsteps reached my ears and I looked up to see a woman being led by the arm by another man in white. The girl shuffled her feet as she walked, never moving her lifeless eyes from the floor.

"Am I meant to be held prisoner here?" I ask, watching the pair.

"You will not be mistreated here, Anthony...ummm...Giselher," the man stated confidently.

"_We've heard that before,"_ a trio of voices sing, their voices sweeping through my mind like wind through a meadow.

_It would do to remember that these are dangerous times filled with dragons, dark magic, and horrible curses_, I remind myself.

I steal my reserve and speak authoritatively as my father had taught me, "My good sir, my brother is King. He will stop at nothing to ensure my safe return to the castle. Your beheading will not be delayed due to kindness now."

One of the men in white coughs and I spin on my heel to see him. He shifts his weight from one foot the other as I scrutinize him. "Insubordinate," I mutter under my breath. Shaking my head, I turn my gaze back to the leader, Carlisle.

"Who are these men?" I ask, pointing.

"These men are orderlies," the man answers freely.

"What is this 'orderly' of which you speak?" I ask, not bothering to hide my disdain.

"They are like..." The man seems to be searching his mind for the proper word. _Does he not know his native tongue_? I resign myself to the knowledge that these men are renegades.

"They are like guards," the man called Carlisle sputters. "They will not hurt you and they will not allow you to be hurt."

I nod in understanding, asking, "Why am I here?" I whisper lowly so the servants cannot hear.

"You will be staying here, Giselher."

I gasp. "Are these my brother's orders?"

"Uh...yes, he sent you here to keep you safe."

I eye him speculatively. This Carlisle is certainly a devil and a profound liar but perhaps I could gather information for my brother. "Very well. I shall stay." After all, I have nothing to fear, I have the protection of the gods.

"Let me show you to your...bedchamber, Giselher," Carlisle says, gesturing broadly with his arm.

I walk through the estate predatorily, like a large cat, letting all who see me know that I will not be humbled. I show no fear, and walk confidently, ready to spring into action and defend myself if necessary.

Carlisle walks me farther down the corridor, where we meet with another man in white. This one is much bigger than the first two.

The orderly speaks, his voice booming in the empty space, "This is the new guy?"

"Giselher, I would like to introduce you to Emmett McCarty. He can help you with any questions or concerns you have during your stay."

"I thought his name was Anthony?" The man inquires of Carlisle. Shaking my head again at the atrocious lack of respect the servants have in this manor, the leader speaks, correcting him, "Emmett, this is Giselher," he says pointedly, motioning toward me with his head. Carlisle's eye twitches a couple of times at the man, in anger I'm sure, and the big man stands straighter, recognition of his mistake written on his face.

We step around him then and through a door. Carlisle says this is to be my sleeping quarters and pushes me through the threshold. "Are you mad?" I ask incredulously. "This is no suitable establishment for a prince. Where is the wine? The slave girls? Where are my robes?" My voice grows in volume with each accusative question.

Fighting to control my temper, I remind myself these men are heathens and, no doubt, knew no better.

"Fine," I seethe. "You will leave me now." With a flourish of my hand, I dismiss him.

Carlisle seems to be amused by me, saying he would give me a moment to meet my roommate but would return to collect me for a tour of the grounds.

"A roommate?" I wonder aloud.

Suddenly, a man in an ill-fitting dressing gown enters the room and holds his hand to his forehead. "Major Jasper Whitlock," he yells out, throwing his arm down to his side after the introduction.

I walk around him, my hands clasped behind my back. "Have you taken the oath and pledged allegiance to your country soldier?"

"Yes Sir," the major says eagerly.

"Very good. I will need an ally," I muse.

"Sir, I assure you we are on the same side. The enemy will never see us coming."

I consider but a moment. "We shall join forces," I speak with finality. The major seems quite pleased by this prospect and mutters about cleaning his weapon before disappearing into the privy.

When Carlisle returns, he beckons me to a room he calls common. I hang my head, ashamed, that this man thinks that I, the prince, would have a taste for spending time with commoners.

A petite dark haired girl sits with her legs folded under her, her back hunched over the papers before her. When she sees us, she abruptly stands and walks on tiptoes to the doctor squealing, "Daddy!" in an exaggerated childlike voice.

The doctor smiles affectionately as the girl bounds into his arms for an embrace.

He turns her toward me, saying, "Alice this is Giselher. Giselher, Alice."

"You bring your child into battle?" I whisper, looking at the angelic girl.

Carlisle clears his throat and motions for the girl to go back to her drawing.

With Alice's attention elsewhere, Carlisle explains in a low voice, "She's not my daughter. She just likes to...pretend."

"Ah," I mutter knowingly, the child is not right in the mind. 'Tis a shame.

A beautiful maiden enters and the doctor speaks her name in my ear, "Rosalie."

The woman appears weary, not fully entering the room. This will not do. Women are meant to bring pleasure to a man and I shall see that this woman does her duty.

I cross the room quickly, grabbing her arm, and spinning her around, "Go forth and wait for me in my chamber, wench."

"Giselher," the doctor says harshly, drawing my attention away long enough for the wench to slip out of my embrace and disappear. "That is inappropriate behavior and will not be tolerated. Human beings are not owned here. We are all free. Equals," the doctor says emphatically.

"Surely, you jest," I ask in awe.

"Time for dinner," the big burly man called Emmett announces from the doorway, effectively ending our conversation.

"You go on with the others, Giselher, and I will check on you shortly," the doctor says, sighing.

In what Emmett calls a cafeteria, the smells are different but very good. My stomach rumbles and I try to recall when last I have eaten.

I receive a tray of food and sit at one of the many tables in the room, making sure to stay clear of the woman, Rosalie. I have no need to force a woman into my bed, many would beg and plead for the honor, I remind myself.

The major stomps over, clicking his heels together when he comes to a stop by my side.

"Permission to speak, Sir?"

"Granted."

"Sir, a sweep of the area has proven the location to be secure."

"Very well major, your loyalty to the king will be rewarded," I assure him.

The girl child, Alice, skips over, linking fingers with the major.

Looking down at her, his expression softens, his posture relaxes from the rigid stance he held moments ago.

"Miss Alice," he drawls.

Alice's lips pout. "You kept me waiting," she whines indignantly.

The major apologizes profusely, taking her hand and tucking it into the bend of his arm as he escorts her back to her table. I watch them retreat before turning back to my meal, feeling a tug in my heart.

I break the bread and have just begun to eat when Carlisle enters and looks around the room, spotting me, he strolls over. He sits in the chair next to me, looking concerned.

"How are you doing Giselher? How do you feel?" he asks, his voice soothing.

I stare at the man, my spoon stills half way to my mouth.

"You can talk to me..." he begins again, leaning toward me.

Instinctively, I pull back, my arm hitting the tray of food and sending it flying off the table. The bowl of red tomato soup clatters to the floor, the liquid spreading.

Suddenly, my eye begins to spasm wildly and my body shakes with tremors, "I've been poisoned," I choke out clutching at my face.

Carlisle hovers over me, feeling my wrist and pressing a metal circle over my heart as I writhe.

Closing my eyes and drawing inward, I focus my mind on the safe spot, up the stairs and behind the wall and in my pain and panic, I turn and run. I see it then, clearly, a Polaroid photo of a linoleum floor puddled with blood. I shrink from the photo as it floats wildly in the air around me like a bee buzzing in the spring.

"Help me, please," I beg, sliding down the wall to the floor.

"Giselher! Anthony!" I hear Carlisle's voice from far away, vaguely, calling to me. He can't assist me in my time of need. He cannot even hear me here, in the space between his world and the safe place. No, only one can help me, the protector.

I scream out for him. "Edward!"

He swoops down from the rafters, crouching before me. He snatches the photo out of the air between his thumb and forefinger.

"What is it Edward? It frightens me. What does it mean?"

"This is not for you to concern yourself with Giselher," he tells me, tucking the picture into the back pocket of his jeans.

"I do not understand brother, please help me," I sob.

His hands rake through his hair harshly but his expression softens. "You call me brother. Am I not also your king?"

"Yes, my lord, always," the words rush out but are no less sincere.

"Do you trust me?"

"I do, implicitly brother. Tell me...what are your wishes? Has the time to fight come?" I inquire, even while my body convulses.

"There is no need to worry. I have taken care of everything. I...took liberties. It is my wish that this be our new home, our new family."

I nod my head in understanding, the panic subsiding. He stands and turns toward the world and as he does I see the corner of the Polaroid sticking out of his jeans. The panic rises again but I push away nobly. "May I be of assistance to you in any way, brother?" I say, pointing. "The photo..."

He turns quickly, stalking, his hands fisting and his body coiling.

"We call you Giselher, but your name is naivety," he speaks simply. "You are no warrior boy. You are but a child, spoiled, self-centered, and gullible. I am the protector and you will do as I say. Is that clear?"

Torn between feelings of immature pettiness and relieved gratitude that this war is not my own, I creep up the stairwell. Just before slipping behind the wall, I hear Edward's voice speaking with Carlisle and I smile to myself at his control.

"Carlisle, please, call me Edward."

"You seemed to be having some difficulty there Edward," the doctor replies.

"Yes, but I feel safe now."

Carlisle smiles kindly, "That's good Edward, that's real good. I want you to feel safe because if you'll let me, I can teach you a whole new way and give you a brand new life."

**-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-**

*~* **Carlisle's POV** *~*

_Hmm… pulse is normal. Heart is regular. Why would he think he was poisoned?_

I continue checking vitals, and everything seems normal. I notice Mrs. Cope peeking her head out of the kitchen.

"Mrs. Cope," I ask our cafeteria manager, "Was there something different with the soup today? Was it too spicy again?"

"No, Dr. Cullen," she replies with a huff. "It's your run of the mill tomato soup."

That isn't the news I was hoping for, so the sudden tremors had to be caused by something else, but what?

"Would you please call Riley down to get this cleaned up?" I ask her.

As she walks into the kitchen, where her phone is located, I ask Emmett to grab a wheelchair so that we can get him up to his bed. I turn my attention back to Anthony.

"Giselher! Anthony!" I call, hoping one of the names will evoke him to give me an answer.

"Drama Queen," I overhear Rosalie groan.

"Oh pretty! It looks like a painting, doesn't it Jasper?" Alice squeals loudly, pointing at the soup that has spilled on the floor.

"Poor soldier," Jasper mumbles quietly. "I'm not sure the medic will be able to help him. The enemy made a surprise attack. It's my fault really. I should have checked the perimeter more closely. They wouldn't have had the opportunity to sneak poison into his meal."

"Everyone calm down. Go back to your lunch," I tell them. I turn my attention back to Anthony and see that he's coming around. I help him into a sitting position and pull out my light and check his eyes that seem to be slightly dilated and more brilliant shade of green than before. "Interesting," I mumble.

"Carlisle, please, call me Edward," Anthony says, smiling kindly. He seems much more at ease than moments ago when he wanted to be called Giselher.

I watch his expression as I say, "You seemed to be having some difficulty there Edward."

"Yes, but I feel safe now." He says that honestly and I actually believe that he feels that way.

I smile at him. "That's good Edward, that's real good. I want you to feel safe because if you'll let me, I can teach you a whole new way, give you a brand new life."

He nods in agreement.

Emmett returns with the wheelchair and helps me situate Anthony in it. I ask him to take Anthony up to his room and to send Demetri down to watch the others. Emmett nods and rolls him out of the cafeteria.

I look at the others. Rosalie hangs her head low avoiding eye contact with me. She touches a spoon of soup to her lips but doesn't bother taking any in before returning it to the bowl.

Alice is rubbing Jasper's back. He seems affected by the incident the most. I walk over and sit across the table from them.

"Jazzy, it's okay," Alice tells him over and over.

"Jasper, what happened wasn't your fault, okay?" I tell him as I reach across the table for his hand.

He allows me to touch him and hitches like he's crying before looking up at me. His green eyes look sad and he explains, "You don't understand, doc, the perimeter check was my duty. I failed. I'm a worthless soldier."

I shook my head. "Jasper, sometimes things happen that you just cannot be prepared for. There wasn't anything that you did that was wrong. Did you see that he's still alive?"

He nods. "I saw you help him, doc. Good work. That doesn't change the fact that I failed at my post assignment."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, Major, because I think you succeeded in helping me do my job. I appreciate it."

Jasper perked up. "So, you're saying this was an exercise?"

I nod and Jasper beams, thinking fully that he was successful after all. I'm thrilled with the fact he let me help him easily this time. Now I need to go try to do the same for Anthony... or Giselher... or Edward... or whoever he is now.

I take out my notepad and quickly note:

_Anthony's demeanor has changed dramatically in the past few hours. He has gone from being utterly defensive to feeling like he is home. He has yet to respond to the name Anthony, but it's only been a few hours. It seems his seizure in the cafeteria has something to do with his change in personality. I cannot make the diagnosis to DID at this point, but it seems that may be the direction of my diagnosis. I'm hoping something of note can be found during his first group therapy session tomorrow._

_*Reminder: Make sure Jasper isn't dwelling in self-hatred from his proclaimed failure this afternoon. He will withdraw from everyone if he isn't reassured again in the morning._

**-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-oOo-OoO-**

**For more of The Double Bind, visit the blog: .com**

**Thank you for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

3.

*~* **Carlisle's POV** *~*

First thing that morning, I walk into the ward to find Emmett standing by Anthony's door.

"Hey, Dr. C," he says, noticing me.

I immediately worry that Anthony became violent overnight and that's why Emmett is standing guard, so to speak. So I ask, "Anything happening with Anthony? Did he lose control?"

"No, sir. He's... he's just not the same guy as before. He's relaxed and calm... hell the guy even joked with me and told me that I was like his big brother."

"That was all?"

Emmett shrugs and after a moment answers, "Yeah."

I pick up my morning rounds chart and begin my day.

**Forest Meadow Mental Health Facility**

**Physician: **Carlisle Cullen, M.D.

**Time/Date: **7:24 am, Tuesday, January 4th

**Ward/Floor: **S. Meyer Wing, 5th floor, minimum security

**CLINICAL NOTES**

**OBSERVATIONS:**

**Masen, Anthony  
**Anthony seems to be a different man than he was yesterday. McCarty informed me that he was pleasant and jovial, even referring to him like a family member. He is entirely different than he was when he first entered into the ward - defensive and arrogant. I hope to find out more about the real Anthony today. I expect, though, that Anthony may only keep this current personality (Edward) until he is comfortable or upset in a situation. He will need constant monitoring so we do not miss anything.

**Whitlock, Jasper**  
Jasper is patrolling the halls this morning. After the incident in the cafeteria, he seems to be doing better than he usually does when he feels he has failed. I am pleasantly surprised to see him on a usual routine this morning. Talk with him during group therapy to ensure that he is not dwelling nor suppressing those feelings. The upped dosage of medication last night seems to have helped. Continue administering the same dosage.

**Brandon, Mary Alice**  
Mary Alice sits quietly in the common room, coloring a castle on a piece of paper and humming to herself. She is content in her childlike state at the moment. Continue having the staff talk to her as an adult. Consider creating a situation that will cause her to make an adult decision in the near future.

**Hale, Rosalie**  
Rosalie is still in her room, sitting on her bed and staring out of her window. Volturri noted that she has kept that position since coming back up from their dinner last night. This was the first night in months that she hadn't slept a bit. Find out during group therapy if the interaction with Giselher or the witnessing of the incident last night triggered any memory or pain for her. Maintain current medication administration.

**PLAN:****  
**Group therapy should be beneficial throughout our ward today. It will be interesting to see the dynamic a new person brings to the group. If Anthony keeps his Edward personality, will he see us all as a family or will he change again, dooming us all? Make sure to note the interactions between him and the other patients, especially during therapy to know if he plays into them, accepts them, or belittles them, as the Giselher personality did with Rosalie yesterday.

*~* **Edward's POV** *~*

"Good morning Carlisle," I say, smiling at him openly as he enters my room. Standing from the bed, I step closer to shake his hand.

"Good morning...Edward?" the doctor replies hesitantly, his infliction at the end forming a question from the statement.

I chuckle and nod my head.

"Okay, Edward. Did you sleep well?" Carlisle asks as he pulls his pen out and begins making notes.

"Oh I don't sleep," I inform him seriously.

"Ever?"

"No. Not ever," I tell him, amused by his reaction.

I lean against the wall watching him as he scribbles furiously on his clipboard. When finished, he tucks his pen back into the top pocket of his white coat and meets my eyes. "Edward, I would like for you to attend group therapy this morning, after breakfast."

"Very well," I answer, pushing off the wall, shrugging my shoulders.

Carlisle's face beams. "That was easy. Thank you Edward."

"I look forward to meeting my new family and I wish to please you," I tell him honestly. The doctor seems genuinely pleased.

"_You are bound differently than we are. We each still have our free will," _the voices whisper in unison, always there to remind me.

My smile falters and my face grows serious as I reiterate, "I will allow you to lead Carlisle but my first priority is to Anthony."

The doctor's eyes widen, "Edward, you know about Anthony - who he is?"

I snort, "Of course, I know him."

"Edward, where is Anthony?" Carlisle asks, his forehead creasing in concentration.

"He's afraid. He lives behind the brick wall."

"Does he know about you Edward?"

I shake my head sadly, looking down at floor, "No, he doesn't want to know."

"Are there others Edward?" he asks lowly, his features sympathetic.

"Yes, we are many."

Carlisle nods silently, his thin lips pulling into a frown, "Do they all live behind the brick wall?"

"Behind the wall is the safe place. We hide the secrets, horrible things that cannot be spoken, in a locked cabinet there. We do not live there. We live in the library of memories and we come and go as we are needed," I reveal.

"Edward, I want to help you, if you'll let me."

"I want you to help me, Carlisle. I don't want to be monster anymore," I tell him, my voice laced with emotion, threatening to burst from me.

"Edward, it would help me a great deal if I knew the secrets locked in that cabinet. I could help Anthony then. You do want to help him, don't you?"

I shake my head in frustration. "Anthony is fragile. To say it, out loud, would be the end of us all. I fear some will be lost anyway," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers.

Looking back at the doctor, I tell him in no uncertain terms, my mind is made up, "The secrets are my own. I, alone, bear their weight."

Carlisle smiles slightly, "Edward have you ever heard the phrase, 'the truth will set you free?'"

Silence fills the room. I narrow my eyes and tell the only truth I know, "I assure you there is no comfort in the truth, Carlisle. Pain is all you'll find."

Carlisle's lips press together tightly, sadness washing over his features. I had no wish to disturb him further but I felt it important to be completely honest and upfront. Even a child raised in the absence of honesty can see the benefit of a trustworthy family.

"Carlisle, you should know," I began, hoping that this would not be something that would send him running from my room. There was a great deal more to be revealed when the time was right. I needed him to be prepared, strong. "You may call me Edward but I go by many names - protector, revenge... punishment..."

"I see," Carlisle nods sadly. "Enjoy your breakfast Edward," he says before slipping back out the door.

Jasper comes out of the bathroom just as Carlisle leaves, as if he had been waiting to give the doctor and I privacy. If he had been listening he makes no show of it, as he sings _Live and Let Die_ loudly. After the chorus he asks to escort me to breakfast before checking the perimeters. I've only just met my new roommate, my brother. I'm not sure what to make of him yet but it is clear that he runs a tight ship and I respect that.

Jasper walks just behind me down the hallway and I have to smile at the irony of the protection I feel for a change. That is, until I see the blond, Rosalie, standing in her doorway. Ignoring her, I continue walking.

"What's the matter with you?" She calls maliciously, her words spitting from her mouth in anger.

I slow my footsteps, "Excuse me?"

"You act like you're better than us but you're not. You're here. Something's wrong with you," she says accusingly, her eyes daring me to dispute her.

** "We all have a sickness. That cleverly attaches and _multiplies_," I quote over my shoulder, smirking, and picking up my pace again.

Ever the gentlemen, I hear Jasper asking Rosalie if she would be in need of an escort to breakfast this morning. I just shake my head and keep walking.

The meal is uneventful. I sit at the table in the cafeteria with my siblings and push the food around my plate. I sit next to Jasper, who linked arms with Alice as soon as we entered the room. Rosalie reluctantly sits next to Alice, eyeing me hatefully, but I find that she is easy to ignore. Emmett stands behind us, with his arms crossed, as acting bodyguard.

All around me, I see people who are just like me. While some may think that boring, I could not be more grateful. It feels good to be with people who just understand and don't ask questions. I can't completely relax though, because it's my job to protect Anthony. I take that job very seriously, and I'll take any measures necessary to ensure his safety.

I was created for one sole purpose. Designed to do what he will never be able to after all he has suffered. I fight back. I'm not scared of anything, and the sight of blood makes my body vibrate with lust. I love the thrill of the chase and stalking my prey - there's nothing like it.

I must be careful though, restrain myself from my selfish desires. I don't want to be a monster, far removed from my humanity. So this is my attempt to blend in with the humans. The plan was to get out of that hell hole so I could be with my new family, those who are just as fucked up as I am.

Soon, it was time for the family meeting, or, group therapy as Carlisle called it. Emmett leads Rose, Alice, and I, with Jasper once again behind me and to my left, looking around suspiciously for enemies to attack, to a large white room down the hall with metal folding chairs placed into a loose circle.

We all take seats, except Jasper who stands anxiously guarding the door. Carlisle arrives and smiles at us all, inviting Jasper to join us. After checking the hall, both ways, three times, Jasper finally relents and takes the chair next to me.

"Jasper," Carlisle begins, "I wanted to take a moment and thank you for your diligence in ensuring the well-being of everyone in this room."

Emmett pats him on the back and Jasper beams with pride. He straightens his back in the chair, instantly appearing taller and more confident.

Alice jumps from her chair, skipping around the back of the chairs until she reaches Jasper, clasping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

Jasper's face reddens brightly and he shifts uncomfortably but still grins from ear to ear.

Carlisle lets him have his moment and then addresses Alice. "Please return to your seat Alice," he says smiling indulgently.

"Yes, daddy," Alice sing-songs while skipping back to her seat and perching daintily on the edge.

The girl is cute, you couldn't help but like her. Her hair inky black and spiky, her energy never-ending, she reminds me of a Tasmanian devil.

Carlisle turned in his chair toward me, a serious look on his face. His entire demeanor shifted. I recognized the professional side of him absolutely in control and I felt a kindred spirit in how quickly the transformation was complete.

"Edward would you like to tell us how you came to be here with us?"

I snort. He doesn't mince words or make polite conversation. He gets right to the crux of my now dead soul. Resting my elbows on my knees, I lower my head to my palms. I feel Jasper's hand on my shoulder and it gives me strength. I clear my throat and rake my hands through my hair.

Stating it in the simplest way that I know how, I answer, "I needed a new family."

Carlisle's face shifts again, fatherly, saddened, "That's the truth isn't it, son?"

"Yes, sir," I agree, nodding my head.

"Oh daddy," Alice wails, bounding into my lap, "you upset him."

Her tears soak my shirt as I allow her to comfort me, cry for me, the feeling new but welcome. If I could cry, I would have wept. It would have pleased me to have the emotional release but it was just not possible. Humanity is beyond my reach.

"Please don't be sad, Edward," Alice sniffles, raising her head to look at me.

"Yeah, don't be sad soldier," Jasper says quietly, wiping at his eyes.

"Now Jasper and Alice, keep in mind that Edward has the right to be sad if that's what he feels," Carlisle interjects.

"It's all right Carlisle," I said, looking up to meet his eyes, hoping he can see my sincerity.

Directing my gaze back to Alice, I smile at her, "I don't want to be sad anymore Alice. Maybe you could help me with that?"

Alice giggles, squirming on my lap, and clapping her hands. Her glee was impossible not to respond to and my face broke wide in smile, and I laugh warmly.

Alice's movement in my lap froze, her eyes glazing, her head tilting to the right. She brought her hand up and cupped my cheek in her tiny hand. "You're really pretty Edward," she says in a dreamy like voice.

The girl really was very cute, and flattering to my ego. She is up and out of arms faster than a streak of lightning. She tiptoes around my chair and stands next to Jasper, bending slightly to press a soft kiss to his temple. "Not as pretty as you Major Master," she whispers, entirely too loudly, before running back to her own seat.

Alice sits swinging her legs, watching Jasper as he leans toward me, whispering, "It's going to be a good day, soldier."

"Indeed it is, Jasper, indeed it is," I respond, grinning.

All this time, Rosalie had sat quietly sneering at everyone around her.

"Is there something you would like to say, Rose?" Carlisle asks.

"Humph," she mutters, turning in her seat, her back to us.

"Rosalie," Carlisle warns, "Edward is one of us now and we take care of our own. I'd like you to think about that this evening."

My once still heart rattles in its cage at Carlisle's words. I want more than anything to belong here, to meet everyone's expectations, even those of Rosalie. I require a refuge but I wish so badly for someone to love me. I know I don't deserve it, but oh how I crave it. Just a small symphony for the devil, that's all I ask.

I once heard it said that you can't expect someone else to love you if you do not love yourself. I loathe myself, still I want these people to like me. The complexity and confusion I feel is staggering. I could never admit to my desire, let alone ask outright. I'm a good liar, I have to be and this is the very least of sins. In my existence, the things I have done will ensure that I thoroughly land in hell.

My thoughts are interrupted when the door swings open and a brunette woman walks in, wearing the same doctors' white coat.

"Carlisle, I'm so sorry I'm late," she says striding quickly across the room.

Carlisle holds up his hand, waving off her concerns. "It's fine Esme, we were just getting to know Edward," he said, smiling at me.

She stops in her tracks, looking quizzically at Carlisle.

He, again, holds up his hand to stop her ramblings. "Esme, you remember I told you about Edward?" Carlisle says, winking at her.

"Ahh, yes," she replies, spinning on one heel toward me.

Esme's face is pretty but comically confused. I want to like her right away. She has a warm smile but I am reluctant. I have not survived my years without learning some key facts about human nature. And the simple truth is that just because a woman has a warm smile doesn't mean she'll share it with you.

She doesn't approach me right away and I am thankful for the distance to study her. Instead, she goes directly to Alice, who bounds into her arms with a squeal. Esme ruffles Alice's hair and pats her back. "What'd you bring me?" Alice asks happily. Esme laughs and produces a small box of crayons from her coat pocket, holding it up for Alice to see. Her shrill, excited scream echoes off the walls and makes my eardrums throb.

After putting Alice back into her chair, she speaks quietly with Jasper who blushes profusely. He sits, looking straight ahead holding his posture rigid, like the soldier ingrained in him, but the smile on his face is priceless and goofy. She places a small, clear bag in his lap, filled with various colored plastic army men.

Esme is clever, I understand what she is doing, allowing me to see her interact with the others so I can feel more comfortable. She glances at me before making any movements to be sure that I am watching. Carlisle is watching too, I notice; his eyes never leave her as she moves around the circle.

She steps beside Rosalie and hugs her lightly with one arm. From her pocket she pulls a tube of lip gloss and presses it into Rosalie's hand. Rosalie doesn't move but her face is lit from within. Esme stands, rubbing circles on her back for a moment before crossing the room to me.

I stand as she nears, wiping my nervous, sweaty hands on the front of my thighs. She is nice, I can see it in her eyes. She is obviously a part of this family and I want to make a good impression. She extends her hand and I reflexively do the same. I look down to our joined hands wanting to both see and feel this new connection.

Looking down at our clasped hands is my first mistake because that's when I notice the red sheen of her nail polish. My second mistake is pushing her away, Carlisle looks so disappointed. I realize it's too late to apologize or try and explain - the process has begun.

Bright white flashes, like that of an Instamatic camera, blind me from within. The voices grow louder and louder, becoming a deafening roar.

Carlisle and Esme wear identical expressions of helplessness while Alice cries on Jasper's shoulder. Rosalie never moves from her seat nor bothers to look my way as Emmett wraps his arms around my waist, pinning my arms to my sides to control the tremors that wrack through my body.

Quickly, before time runs out. I walked briskly up the stairs away from family to shoulder my responsibility, my burden. I think of Carlisle's disappointment as I climb the steps, and of Anthony's screams. I can only hope that the two of them will understand, in time.

Snatching the photo from the air, sweeping around me, and removing the other from my back pocket, I affixed them to the wall. Then, using all my strength and one small prayer, I hold the voices at bay, forcing Anthony to emerge from safety.

"Edward, Edward," the name is called all around me as I blink open my eyes, adjusting to the light. People stand all around me, in a circle that seems somehow familiar. They hover, staring down at me. I suck in a deep breath as the fear overwhelms me.

"Edward, are you alright son?"

"W-w-who's Edward? Where am I?" I stutter out.

"Anthony?" a blond man asks.

I nod my head yes and the man looks relieved.

"No one is going to hurt you Anthony. You live here now. We're sort of...your new family. Is that alright?" he asks, kindly.

I nod my head again, unsure of what to say.

"Can you tell me what you remember?" he questions reaching for pen from his breast pocket.

"Pictures," I whisper, "…photographs hung on the wall for me to find and then a blustery wind that pushed me from my hiding space. I'm scared," I tell them, drawing my knees up and wrapping my arms around them, hugging myself tight.

"What were on the photos Anthony?" the man asks slowly.

"P-pp-puddles of blood," I blurt, hanging my head.

"Tell me what is on the other photos," the man demands. He is going to make me tell even though it made me sick, sick and afraid. I am weak though, just a core of the person I could have been and I've no strength to defend myself. So, taking deep breaths, I force my face to lift but I meet no one's eyes as I answer.

"A foreclosure n-n-n-notice, with b-bloody f-f-fingerprints," I finally push out before collapsing into darkness.

*~* **Carlisle's POV** *~*

I rush to Anthony's side and quickly check his vitals. Just like before, everything seems normal. I tell Esme to make a note in Anthony's chart and ask Emmett for help getting him into his bed.

We carry him to his bed and I ask Emmett to stay by the door and let me know the instant he's back with us - either as Anthony, Edward, or whomever he is claiming to be. I go back to the room where we hold group therapy to find that my assistant, Esme, has already calmed the others and sent them to the common room for free time.

I shut the door and turn to her. "What do you think?"

"Well, he's definitely suppressing a lot. I'm worried about him."

I smile at how much she truly cares for our patients here. "I know you do," I say. "He did mention bloody fingerprints, right?"

She nods and adds, "It must be from the trauma he dealt with shortly before coming here."

What can I say? She does her homework. We discuss other possible diagnoses for Anthony, but it seems that everything is pointing towards DID. I'd hate to make that call too soon, though. I just want to help him so much. That's not an easy thing to do when you haven't spoken with the actual patient.

Esme and I get busy filling out paperwork and making recorded notes for Anthony's file, detailing every bit of information we can about his therapy session and the sudden seizure that may or may not have been provoked from a memory of the tragedy.

We are just about finished when Emmett knocks on the door. He pokes his head into the room and says, "Doc, he's back."

"Anthony?" I ask with high hopes.

"No," he replies. "Edward."

"Good. I'll be down in a minute. I'd like to speak with him."

Emmett leaves, and Esme and I finish our work. As she shuts the file, she looks at me, smiling ever so slightly. "I take it you'll be staying tonight."

I glance at her and ask, "How did you..."

"Carlisle, you care a lot about your patients. You treat them as though you are their loving father. It's why I love you so much." She leans over and places a small kiss on my lips.

"I love you, too, Esme. I'm glad you understand why I'm cancelling on you tonight." I hand her the tapes to file away as I get up and tell her good night. She tells me the same and makes me promise to call if things slow down. I agree and walk to Anthony's room.

When I get there, Emmett is standing in the doorway, trading sarcastic banter with the patient. When I walk into the room, the patient tells him, "Later, bro."

I sit beside him on the bed and pull out my notepad, readying to take notes. "Edward?" I ask.

He smiles and nods. "Carlisle."

**The quote Edward recites to Rosalie is from the Incubus song, 'Dig'.


	4. Chapter 4

**4.**

***~*~*For a minute there, I thought you were going to let that thing get to me. **

**~Cedric Diggory, Goblet of Fire*~*~***

*~*~***Carlisle's POV***~*~*

I walk into the ward early the next morning not quite sure what to expect. Emmett greets me, chipper as usual. After giving me quick updates about our resident patients, he hands me the morning rounds form.

**Forest Meadow Mental Health Facility**

**Physician: **Dr. Carlisle Cullen

**Time/Date:** 7:07 am, Tuesday, January 11

**Ward/Floor:** S. Meyer Wing, 5th floor minimum security

**CLINICAL NOTES**

**OBSERVATIONS****:**

**Masen, Anthony**

For the first night in a week, Anthony has slept. McCarty notified me that upon taking the prescribed sleeping aid the night before, he seemed to have fallen asleep quickly and has shown no signs of nightmares or night terrors. Volturri's notes from the night seem to concur. I am concerned as Anthony has maintained that he is Edward since our group therapy session last week. He claims that we are like his family, and knowing that, he seems content, especially in the face of the tragedy he has suffered. I'm glad he's adjusting well, but am concerned that there is no hint of a different personality appearing. Maintain constant surveillance over him throughout the day to see if there are any signs of a change.

**Brandon, Mary Alice**

Alice is reading a wizard book this morning. She's been busy buzzing about. She has seemed to find a brother in Anthony. He seems amused by her childlike ways. I have noticed that they watch out for each other. This may be beneficial to Mary Alice's mental state overall. Increase interaction with Anthony as long as his behaviour permits.

**Hale, Rosalie**

She is more withdrawn and avoids any conversation with Anthony. The Giselher personality has caused a great setback with her. Even with the increased dosage of anti-depressants, she is withdrawn. Have Esme talk privately with her and try to get to the root of the problem. Talk with her again about the possibility of starting family therapy. Try to have Emmett approach her and speak to her reassuringly.

**Whitlock, Jasper**

He seems to be taking his new roommate in stride. I have overheard him speaking to the Edward personality as though he really trusted him. It seems they have bonded and that has brought out a side of Jasper that I have never witnessed before. Monitor Jasper as normal, but keep watch for a change if Anthony changes from Edward as it may affect him negatively. Maintain prescribed dosage of Clozapine on schedule.

**PLAN:**

Today's meals will be held in ward as the cafeteria goes through it's six month health inspection. Try to get Rosalie involved with the others and not let her get away with hiding from everyone. Allow Alice to interact more with Anthony. Allow Jasper the same consideration.

*~*~***Cedric's POV** *~*~*

My eyes pop open, and I wake up to begin the day. I am _so_ excited to have a day at school. I go through my morning routine - breakfast, washing, and dressing - and prepare everything to head out. My friend Jasper wakes up as I am about to step out of the door.

"Where are you going, soldier?" he asks as he sits up on his bed and stretches.

"School, of course," I reply and head out for the day.

I manage to get to school quickly that morning as I am already walking through the halls. I happen upon a girl sitting on the couch, looking at a really neat book with a wizard and dragon on the cover.

I walk over to her and say, "That book looks so cool. What's it about?"

She flips through the pages and answers, "It's about wizard games and dragon races."

"That sounds like fun. Do you mind if I sit next to you and look along?"

"Not at all." She smiles and pats the couch next to her.

After I sit, I make my introduction. "My name is Cedric Diggory. What's yours?"

"Mary Alice, but I like to go by Alice more."

"Is this your first day of school, too?"

"School? No. I've been here for as long as I can remember."

We discuss the book's pictures. She tells me how much she loves the wizard's cape and I tell her how cool flying on dragons could be. She explains the different dragon colors, and I add in what I knew about casting spells.

"Could you keep it down?" a voice hisses from behind us.

Alice and I get on our knees and peer over the back of the couch. There is a beautiful woman sitting there flipping through a stack of books. _She doesn't stop to read anything, which is really weird_, I think.

"Is she the librarian?" I whisper.

Alice leans over to me and answers, "That's Rose. She's mean. Like... an evil wizardess type of mean."

"Oh. That bad, huh?"

"I said quiet!" Rose spat with an evil glare.

Alice and I slink down on the couch in hopes that her evil magic would float above us.

"You wanna go to another room?" Alice asks. "We can do something else."

"Okay," I agree.

Alice grabs my hand and leads me through the plain school halls. She begins to skip, and I follow her lead. We run right into a very large guy. He looks like a wrestler from TV with his tight shirt and big grin.

"Sorry, Emmett," Alice apologizes. "Cedric and I were trying to get away from Rose. She's in a mood."

"Well, be careful as you go through the halls. We have food carts coming in soon. If you want to get rid of your energy, go to your room and do some exercise."

"Yes, Coach Emmett," I say with a small salute, like I had noticed Jasper doing earlier.

He gives me an odd look as Alice and I pass him slowly.

"Good salutin', soldier," Jasper says with a wink as we pass him standing in a doorway.

Alice leads me through the halls, and we pass by an office. There is a blond man sitting at it and writing up a storm. He glances at us and calls us into his office. After Alice introduces us, we are back on our way to find something to keep busy with.

"The principal here is really nice," I comment.

"You mean daddy?"

"You're dad is the principal? That is awesome! I bet you can do almost anything you want around here."

Alice shrugs. "Sometimes. You wanna see what mommy gave me the other day?"

"Sure."

I tell Alice that she is very lucky as she explains that it isn't her birthday. I can't imagine getting random presents for no reason. Gosh, I barely remember getting presents for my birthday. Or even Christmas. As I think about it, I don't even remember ever getting a present. Weird.

"Aren't they beautiful?" she asks, holding out a box of crayons.

"Very. I see you haven't even used them yet," I note as I see the points are all perfect.

"Not yet, but soon. I'm still working my way through an older box."

"Yeah... I know it can take a while."

We sit discussing favorite colors and I can't think what mine is, so I just blurt out blue for no reason. Alice's is purplish pink. She shows me her art, drawings upon drawings using all sorts of shades of purples and pinks with the occasional green and blue tossed in for variety. Well, that's what she said anyway.

As she offers me a piece of paper to color on and her older crayons, there is a knock on the door. Coach Emmett was letting us know that it was lunchtime in the common room. We get off of the floor and hold hands back through the hallways again.

We make it to the big room with the TV, we spot Rose sitting alone at a table picking at her food. She glares at us, and we turn for the other table that was occupied by Jasper. He stands up and escorts Alice to a chair, pulling it out for her and everything. It was cool... just like grown ups do.

I eat whatever the slop is that is served to us. You'd think we would have had picnic stuff since we were eating on paper plates and with plastic spoons, but instead there was this brown stuff on top of a piece of toast. At least we have cherry juice boxes that help flavor the nasty goop.

After lunch, Alice asks Jasper to join us, but he declines saying he has his strategy maps to look after. Alice and I look at Rose and she rolls her eyes and curses us under her breath. I feel weak and am almost quite sure that she cast a spell on me.

Alice walks me through the halls to her room so she can check me over. We pass by a beautiful woman that she points out is her mommy. I wave, say hello, and make a comment about her pink nail polish that sparkled like fairy dust. Alice explains our emergency and we continue to her room.

She lays me on the bed and looks at the book with the wizard on the cover again. "Let me try this," she says waving her hand over me. "Thistle burns, winds blow, if there's a spell, let it show."

I close my eyes tightly and she lets out a disappointed sigh. I open one eye and ask, "Nothing?"

"Nothing came up. Hmmm... I thought for sure Rose did something to you."

"Maybe you need a wand? The wizard on the cover has one."

Her eyes widened in excitement. "You're right!" She looks around her room and says, "I got it!"

She walks over to her box of new crayons and takes out a pretty color that she had told me was Orchid before.

"Okay, I have the wand. Let me try again." She repeats the spell and murmurs, "Oh dear."

"What?"

Her head shakes as she flips through the book. "You have a _Respiritio NonCompensus_ spell cast upon you. If I don't act fast, you won't be able to breathe."

I begin to choke and gasp for air. I clutch my throat and gasp, "It's working. Help."

She waves her wand over me and chants what she says is an _Anapneo_spell. When she points her wand to me, my airway opens and I can breathe again. "Thanks, Alice. I thought for sure Rose was going to kill me with that spell."

"Glad I had my wand. Maybe you should get your wand before she tracks us down to see if she's succeeded."

"Good idea." She extends her hand with the box of crayons towards me and I choose my wand, a lovely green color.

"Good pick, Cedric. That matches your eyes. I bet it will work the best for invisibility spells."

We practice our wizardry for a few hours. I wasn't feeling safe still, so I pull out two small blankets that were resting on the small shelf near the window. I chose the black one for myself and hand Alice the purple one.

"What is this for?" she asks puzzled.

I tie the corners around my neck and answer, "It's our cloaks. I used the invisibility spell on them. It will help us hide when we need to."

"Good thinking." She copies me and ties hers around her neck. "Now what?"

I sit and think for a moment before it hits me. "We should have a dragon race!"

Her eyes light up and she smiles. "That would be so excellent!"

"Let's pick our dragons out."

We walk through her room and she stops. "I want the pretty orange one. Orange means fast."

I nod. After a moment, I announce my choice. "Black. He's good with turns. The turns are important in racing."

I walk out of her room onto the race course. I wait for a minute for Alice to come out. She is carrying her box of new crayons, and I ask, "Why do you have those?"

"In case we run into the evil Rose again. We will be prepared for any spell she might cast." Alice was a very smart girl. She was totally thinking ahead.

We prepared for the start of the race. Alice gave her dragon a pep talk, and I gave my dragon some food. When it was time, we mounted our dragons and got ready for the race.

"On the count of three," I say. "1... 2... 3!"

We were off. Alice and I were neck and neck until that first crazy turn.

"Watch it!" Emmett yelled as she almost ran into him.

"Sorry Coach," I apologize for her as I pat my dragon for making that tricky turn.

"I'm catching up," Alice yelled as she was back at my side again.

"That was close, Alice. Thank goodness my dragon's steering is perfect."

"Yes, but mine is faster." She passes me as we make a run to the main entry. "I see the finish line!"

There is no way I was going to lose to a girl. I run faster to catch up, but my dragon loses control. I fall into Alice and we slide on the slippery track into a tall metal wheeled cart. The cart falls over with a loud crash, food and drinks spilling everywhere.

"Alice, are you alright?" I ask helping her sit up.

"I'm good," she replies wiping brown goo from her cape. "I think the dragons will need to go to the vet now."

"Yeah..." I say as a very upset looking nurse steps from behind her desk.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?" she yells at us with a scowl on her face.

Alice's eyes widen. "It's the evil queen. She practices baaaad magic."

I pull my green wand out of my pocket and wave it around, chanting a spell for niceness.

"You two are in a lot of trouble."The evil queen grabs my arm and yanks me up, making me drop my wand. Alice starts waving her wand and the queen does the same to her.

Alice pulls out her box of crayons with her free hand and opens it go get a new wand, but the evil queen rolls her eyes and takes the box from her and places it in her desk. Alice screams and the evil queen yanks hard on our arms.

Thankfully, Coach Emmett came in time. "Nurse Stanley, what are you doing to them?"

"They're going to get in their rooms. Look what they've done."

Coach Emmett looks at the mess and scolds the evil queen. "Jessica, sometimes things happen, but that is no excuse to hurt the patients. I'll take care of them, you call Riley up to clean the mess."

She nods and shoves us towards Coach Emmett. He takes us in his gentle, yet firm grip and starts walking us to our rooms.

Alice is in tears and can barely breathe. Jasper steps out into the hall and asks if he may be of assistance. Emmett asks him to walk her down to her room.

With a loud, "Yes, sir," and a salute, he offers Alice his arm and walks her down the hall.

Emmett stays behind to make sure I get into bed until the principal can be notified of the events. I try to explain about my dragon having a malfunction. I try to let him know that she took Alice's present. I try my hardest, but he just doesn't listen.

He leaves me alone in the low-lit room, and I feel scared. Doomed. I start rocking on my bed, trying to comfort myself, but for some reason I am feeling worse.

Just then, Jasper opens the door and hands me a folded piece of paper. "From Miss Alice."

I take it from him and open it. '_I'm sorry, Cedric. Maybe we can play again soon_,' was scribbled in bright red cursive letters. Upon seeing that, flashes of red squiggles on plates run through my mind.

Although I don't know why, the instant I see that, I begin to cry, totally freaking out. I lay down on my bed and my knees seem to know to pull up to my chest, my arms feel right clutching them tightly. As I am crying uncontrollably, a bad feeling rises into my chest.

_Something bad is going to happen to me. I just know it._

***~*~*Anthony***~*~*

_I'm scared and alone. I don't know what's happening and I don't want to know. I'm just desperate for it all to stop. Please God, make it all go away. Voices, on the other side of the wall, cause me to cover my ears with my hands. A Polaroid photo floats through the air, swaying slowly to the floor. Closing my eyes tightly, I try to ignore it._

_It continues to flutter around my head, making my hair ruffle. Hushed whispers of many voices culminating together to a dull roar inside my head._

_I don't want to look at the photo. I know it's bad...a real bad, memory. However, the voices are insistent. That gnawing voice urging you to be brave and do what is right. I often wonder if other people's conscious is as loud as mine...or as precarious._

"_You aren't exactly the best judge of what is or isn't dangerous," one whispers harshly._

_Things had been getting better. I had felt safe for a little while. Now, terrible dread flows through my veins, rippling under the surface of my skin. Rocking back and forth, I wish as hard as I can for someone to make it better, make things right, even just for a little while._

Opening my eyes, I was filled with the knowledge of how to make it right. One track minded, I spring from the bed.

"Soldier?" my flatmate asks, groggily.

"Go back to sleep," I tell him quietly.

"Is it the enemy soldier? I can help," he says, reaching for his belt, hanging on the bedpost, with one hand as he pulls back the covers with the other. He's wearing his boots already, still tied tightly. I roll my eyes and motion for him to stop.

"Stay here. This is more of a...private mission."

It takes him a moment but realization lights his face and he nods in understanding.

"Have fun soldier," he murmurs, covering back up.

I shake my head at him, scrunching my face. "Don't call me soldier. Call me Richard," I say, slipping out the door of our room.

Taking my time, I swagger down the hall. I smell her perfume before I turn the corner and I take a minute to fluff my hair. Looking down at my body, I see that I am wearing a plain white t-shirt and blue striped pajama pants. Whipping my shirt off, I sling it over my shoulder. Then, releasing the drawstring on my pants, I feel them fall loosely on my hips.

Breathing deeply, I feel the confidence and pride wash over me. "Yes," I hiss, loving the power overwhelming me.

One last breath and I'm turning the corner and walking right over to Jessica. I don't stop in front, I walk right around the desk, staring her down.

She jumps when she sees me and quickly stands, slamming shut her top desk drawer, but not before I notice the pack of Crayola's inside.

"What do you want boy?" she asked, not taking her eyes off of my chest. She's not looking at me like a mere boy, I muse. Smirking at her obviousness, I kick the chair out of my way and close the short distance between us, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her flush against me. As I predicted, she doesn't even struggle, instead, melts into me.

"I want the crayons," I whisper in her ear, allowing my breath to wash over her neck.

Her body freezes against me, as she remembers, "Cedric," she seethes, spitting the name out with disgust.

Locking my arm tighter, I gaze down at her in contempt.

"Cedric has one of the purest, sincerest, kindest minds I've ever heard and I am lucky to have his thoughts to share," I tell her.

Her breath hitches and she involuntarily pushes herself against me. Her eyes grow wide as she realizes the same thing I do, she likes it rough. Aiming to please, I palm her ass rudely and when she reaches for her sore backside, I capture her wrists in one hand, raising them above her head. I hesitate just for a moment, gauging her reaction. When she meets my eyes, I see no hint of fear, only lust.

Seizing the opportunity, I shove her against the desk and smash my lips to hers. When she is panting hard and unable to breath, I pull back slightly, biting her bottom lip. Using my grip on her hands, I pull her to me and spin her around like a doll.

Jessica moans loudly but her enjoyment is over, she deserves to be punished and I have been chosen for the job. Jerking her skirt up over her hips, I smack her harshly on the ass. Before she can catch her breath, I strike again and again until her skin is an angry red.

When she whimpers, I step back, completely removing my hands from her. She whimpers again, pushing her body back towards me. When she realizes I am not near, she looks over her shoulder, using her eyes to plead with me.

I close my eyes again, inhaling the power I now exuded over her, feeling it flow through my veins. Looking at her again, I smirk cruelly then, turn and walk away, leaving her unsatisfied. As I turn the corner of the corridor, heading back to my room, I slip the box of crayons into my pocket that I stole from Jessica's drawer while she was otherwise preoccupied.

Jasper smiles fully when I show him my treasure. I hid the box in the drawer with my shirts and slip under the covers of my bed. Allowing the scene to replay in my mind, I fist my erection, humming throatily. When I get to the part where I left her, bent over the desk, broken and willing to do anything for me, I come all over my hand.

***~*~*~* Carlisle POV *~*~*~***

"Felix, would you please come in here?" I ask as he walks by my door, doing the nightly room checks.

"Yes, Dr. Cullen."

"Would you mind taking these boxes of last year's files down to the records room for me? I would have had Emmett do it, but he left for the night before I had the chance to ask."

He smiles and happily says, "Sure, I'll do it. Not a problem, Dr. C."

As he pushes the dolly cart with the three boxes out of my room, I realize what has him so eager to help out. "Tell Jane I said hello."

He stops and looks at me, utterly shocked. "How did you know?"

I shake my head and chuckle, saying, "Everyone knows about you two. Just remember that you are needed on the ward, all right?"

He nods and goes on his way.

I finish up my verbal notes and log them into the computer. After gathering my paperwork and sliding it into my briefcase, I remove my white coat and prepare to head out for the night.

I begin my walk through the halls toward the elevator. I pass by Alice's room and can her her singing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star over and over. I glance through the window in Rosalie's room and see her sitting on her bed and staring out of the window. I pass by Jasper and Anthony's room, and notice that the door is slightly ajar. I peek in and see that Jasper is in his bed, but Anthony isn't there.

I go searching through the halls, hoping to find him myself before a missing patient alert had to be sounded. I walk back through the halls, re-checking the rooms. He's not in any of them. I walk through the common room and he's not in there either. I quickly walk up to the front desk to see if Miss Stanley had seen him.

As I approach the desk, I can hear two voices, one of them Anthony's.

"Cedric." Miss Stanley's voice was breathy, lust filled.

The other voice belonged to Anthony. But, there was something to his tone that sent a chill up my spine as he spoke, "Cedric has one of the purest, sincerest, kindest minds I've ever heard and I am lucky to have his thoughts to share."

It isn't Anthony, though, nor was it the personality I had met earlier that day, Cedric. He was innocent and very childlike. This one... this one was different, more dark. I peek around the corner and see that Anthony has Miss Stanley pressed against the desk, kissing her.

I lean back against the wall, not wanting to start a disruption without having Felix or Emmett around to help restrain him. I stay there, listening. I hear heavy breathing, and then smacks and moans.

After a moment, there is nothing but silence. I peek around the corner again to see Anthony looking back over his shoulder and smirking. As he walks by, he holds a posture I hadn't seen on him before - tall and proud as though he were a male peacock in mating season.

I peer back into the hallway and see Anthony enter his room and quietly shut the door. I am left with so many questions. Who was Anthony projecting himself to be that time? Why did he force himself upon Miss Stanley in that way? If he sleeps tonight, who will he be when he awakens in the morning?

I walk back down the hall as I pull out my cell phone and scroll through the names, finding the one I needed. "Hello, Esme. There's been an incident and I won't be coming home tonight."

**A/N: Thanks for reading! The Next chapter soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

**5.**

**Forest Meadow Mental Health Facility**

**Physician: **Dr. Carlisle Cullen

**Time/Date: **7:37 am, Wednesday, January 19th

**Ward/Floor: **S. Meyer Wing, 5th floor minimum security

**OBSERVATIONS****:**

**Masen, Anthony**

Anthony has been living under the identity of Edward Cullen for a week now. He has been content with his 'family' as he puts it. He has told me a few times that he is happy to finally have one where he feels loved and accepted for himself. I feel that this new found bliss of his may not be everlasting. Make sure McCarty as well as the other staff watch for any signs of distress and notify immediately of any changes in his behavior.

**Brandon, Mary Alice**

Alice still seems a little withdrawn since the incident last week concerning Cedric/Anthony and Nurse Stanley. She hasn't spoken much to anyone which is very unlike her. Try to engage her in some of her favorite activities such as coloring even though it goes against her treatment of treating her as an adult. If she continues to withdraw, watch for signs that she may be is slipping into a depression. Discuss medicating her before it progresses too much further.

**Whitlock, Jasper**  
Jasper has already done his morning patrol of our halls and deemed us safe. He has really taken to the Edward personality. They have talked and interacted as though they were really siblings. I am relieved that Jasper is acclimating to Anthony, especially after his intense dislike of his previous roommate, Eric Yorke. Maintain current prescribed dosage of Clozapine on schedule.

**Hale, Rosalie**  
Rosalie still seems leery of Anthony. That incident his first day was more of a set back than I had originally thought. She hasn't left her room, nor had she interacted with anyone. She has also refused family therapy again. As of today, Rosalie is required to participate in activities in the common room as well as interact with others. Maintain her current prescribed dosage of Zoloft on schedule.

**PLAN****:**

Depending on how the patients interact this morning, consider an after lunch activity or game that everyone has the chance to participate. Let's make sure all the patients are communicating, respectfully of course. During the evening's group session, make sure all patients have the opportunity to talk. Interaction among each other is what they need right now.

*~* **Carlisle's POV ***~*

I finish writing in the rounds chart and sign off. "Here you go, Emmett."

"Thanks, doc. I'll get that filed for you," Emmett replies with that grin of his.

"We have to make sure the patients start interacting again. This silence among them isn't beneficial."

"Well, maybe this will help," Emmett replies, holding out a file to me. "It's another new patient. She'll be arriving in fifteen minutes or so."

I take the file from him and quickly flip through the pages. Bella Swan, eighteen years old, is being transferred from Port Angeles, diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after an incident in her family. She is on twenty milligrams of Prozac, but is still showing signs of severe depression. _Poor child._

Emmett interrupts my reading by asking, "Should we put her in the empty room or with Rosalie?"

I shut the file and look at him. "We won't be leaving her alone and in Rosalie's current state, I don't think that placing them together would be a good idea."

"But I thought, since they had the same diagnosis..."

"No, I think it wouldn't be beneficial for either of them. I think we'll put her in with Alice. That way she won't be alone, and hopefully Alice will snap out of whatever funk she's in."

"Alright, doc, I'll prep the empty bed in Alice's room."

As I turn to walk to the elevator, I give Emmett one last order, "Make sure that you tell Alice that she's getting a new roommate."

"Yeah, I will," Emmett answers, walking away from me in the other direction.

I go down to patient receiving to wait for Bella. Miss Mallory meets me in the lobby with the paperwork that I have to sign to accept the transfer. As the ambulance pulls into the bay, I quickly sign the forms and send Miss Mallory on her way.

My heart drops as a timid girl walks into the hospital, shuffling her feet. Her hair hangs in her face like a veil. She is rail thin and pale; I'm almost positive that she hasn't been eating. She keeps her hands folded in front of her, not wanting to touch anything. She trips but regains her footing and flinches when the EMT tries to help her.

She stops in front of me when the EMT tells her to. She looks at me through her veil and doesn't say a word.

"Hello, Bella. I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen," I say to her with a bright smile in hopes that it would ease her tensions.

She doesn't say a word. Instead she just looks at me.

"Well, let's go upstairs and you can meet everyone, okay?"

She nods slightly and starts shuffling along behind me towards the elevator.

As we wait, I tell her about Alice and the fact that they will be roommates. I mention Rosalie, briefly. I tell her about Jasper, but when I get to Anthony, I stop after mentioning his name. I don't mention Edward or Cedric... none of the other personalities I've witnessed for myself. I didn't want to scare her more than what she was.

*~* **Edward's POV** *~*

Time moves quickly and complacency is a gift. Routine and stability is something I, nor the others, have experienced. Though Anthony is still skeptical and refuses to come out of hiding, he is content, and a peacefulness has settled throughout. I have allowed him to rest and rebuild his strength during this time without showing him any more memories but the time is drawing near. For now, we watch and wait.

Mornings are my favorite time in my new home. Everyone seems so content. This morning is no different than any other and, for that, I am grateful. Carlisle always comes to speak with me and my brothers and sisters enjoy some quiet play as we await breakfast. Jasper is teaching Alice to crawl on her stomach in case she ever needs to escape under low strung barbed wire fence. I lean against the wall watching them move through the hall, dragging the lower halves of their bodies by the force of their forearms. Rosalie systematically ignores us all, while Emmett stands watch, allowing me to let down my guard.

I am so happy in this place, with these people-even Rosalie. More happy than I ever thought I could or should be. I have a warm place to sleep, a place where no one wakes me up in the middle of the night to yell at me. A place where I didn't have to worry about whether there was enough food to eat, and no one tries to drown me in soapy dishwater if I eat the last slice of bread. I had no idea life could get any better. I have never imagined wanting anything else.

But then I see _her_.

She walks in the door with Carlisle and my entire world shifts. For a moment, I am stunned. The voices, talking all at once, are a dull roar in my head, but my eyes never leave her as she crosses the floor, being introduced. _She takes my breath away and I can't even see her face yet. _Her head hangs low, long mahogany colored hair streaming down the sides of her face, cutting off my view.

Rosalie, of course, completely ignores her, choosing instead to examine her fingernails. She doesn't look up when Jasper salutes but she lets Alice clasp her hand, overcome with joy about her new roommate. Irrationally, I am jealous. I want to be the only one to hold her hand. She's moving toward me now, shuffling her socked feet.

Suddenly, I am nervous. I hear Carlisle say good morning as he gestures to the girl, "This is Bella Swan..."

"_Bella Swan. Bella Swan. Bella Swan,_" the voices sing in harmony.

I hold my hand out to her and much to my surprise and joy, she takes it in her own. Her skin is so warm in mine, fitting perfectly.

"Hello. I'm Edward."

I glance at Carlisle, he is smiling and nodding his satisfaction. When I look back down to Bella Swan, she is looking up at me through her eyelashes and I gasp at the sight of her beautiful brown eyes. I see sadness and confusion swirling in their depths but there is something else too, something that leaves me hypnotized-hope.

A tiny smile curls one side of her lip and it is the most adorable thing I have ever seen. Time seems to slow as we stand here together, holding hands and gazing into each others eyes. It doesn't bother me that Carlisle is standing by watching us, grinning knowingly. I don't care that Alice is skipping around us, singing "You are My Sunshine". All I care about is this moment, this slip of a girl in front of me and the warmth of her skin against mine.

The _others _are yelling so loud my head is spinning. I listen for Anthony's voice, straining because his is now the weakest. He remains silent, oblivious. Each one wanting me to listen to them, their reasons, their thoughts, on why I should or should not be with her, with this girl right now and what they want future encounters to involve. My head is filled with pictures of their planned activities.

Richard wants no part of her. Showing me Polaroids of danger signs.

Cedric shows a photo of a smiling him in a tux sweeping Bella Swan across a ballroom floor.

The rest of them show variations of the same. All have their own agenda of how to save themselves. Normally, I would listen to everyone respectively and make a decision based on what's best for Anthony but this morning, in the sunshine, with her hand in mine all I can think about is how my life just changed.

Before I could find out any more about her, Esme sweeps into the room, heading straight toward us. "Carlisle, I've brought the morning medicine," she smiles happily.

I had to let go of Bella's hand and immediately felt the loss. Each of us receives our paper cup of pills and take them without hesitation. Drugs are the least of my worries, I've done much much worse. I notice that Bella seems embarrassed, her face beet red. I raise an eyebrow at her in question but she shrugs her shoulders, resigned and tips the cup of meds into her mouth.

Carlisle and Esme wander away discussing something privately. Alice and Jasper go back to their war game and Rosalie goes back to pretending we don't exist. I, however, cannot move from my spot, watching the lovely Bella Swan.

Her hands shake as she twists the, now empty, paper cup between her fingers. I want to reach for hand again to try and calm her fidgety nerves, but I don't for fear of rejection. The way her eyes are darting to me and quickly away is making me anxious.

I observe silently as she begins ripping the cup into tiny pieces, allowing them to flutter to the floor like feathers. I know she's scared, I know that look well, I've seen it many times in the mirror. Although I know she is right to be, I don't want her to be afraid of me.

Shreds of white paper litter the floor in a pile when suddenly she jumps, yelping.

"Paper cut," she says timidly, shrugging her shoulder as one drop falls from her finger to the pile staining the purity of the white snowflake effect she has created.

In a flash I am back there, in that house, stacks and stacks of unpaid bills covering the kitchen table. The memory taking me by surprise, I am rocked by the overcoming feeling of helplessness that surrounds me. In the span of a second the memories infiltrate. The lingering musty smell of the parents home descends powerfully over me. I say the parents home because it was certainly never my home. None of the others were welcome there either and I was paralyzed with their pleas.

Through the emotional panic and the horrible screams from the others, my eyes never leave Bella Swan as she stands before me slowly lifting her finger to her mouth. Internally everyone ran to hide as I turn my anger at the memory inward. Closing my eyes for one brief second, I inhale deeply to steady myself before I really scare Bella.

I swear I can smell her fear and pain, it's palpable in the air when I breathe heavily and focus. My mind settles to clarity immediately. Concentrating on moving slow and gentle, I reach and grasp Bella's wrist.

"Allow me," I say catching and holding her gaze.

Reverently, I bring her hand to my lips, flicking my tongue out across the pad of her finger and lapping up the drop of crimson that has bubbled from the wound. She gasp softly, her eyes wide, but she does not pull away.

The voices whisper her name in many languages as her blood sings through our veins.

Puckering my lips, I place a tiny kiss over the cut and release her. Her arm hovers in the air between us as she stares transfixed between it and me. Seeming to come to some sort of conclusion, she reaches determinedly and places her tiny hand on my cheek. Her eyes roam my face, studying every feature. The softness of her touch is something I have never experienced.

I close my eyes and revel in it, allowing her to do as she wishes.

Unfortunately, the contact doesn't last nearly long enough. Jasper and Alice, who have witnessed the accident and have serious personal space issues, are running toward us, Jasper yelling, "Medic," and, "Man down," while Alice cries, "Oh Bella".

Bella's warm touch leaves me immediately as she covers her face with her hands and begins backing away. Filled with anger at having been disrupted, I quickly step up, pushing her behind me. My protective tendencies kick in full force and I crouch, my fingertips brushing the linoleum as I prepare to defend this wisp of a girl from the onslaught of my own family.

Jasper never slows his stride and Alice's shrill screams never subside as I spring, shoving Jasper's chest with all of my force. He crashes against the wall, his legs splayed out before him. Pandemonium ensues, a crying Bella and Alice are led away by Esme while a crying Jasper is helped up by Carlisle, all of them shooting me worried, angry glances.

Emmett puts his hand on my shoulder, saying, "Come on bro, you can apologize later. Right now Dr. Cullen wants you to take a time out before breakfast."

Emmett walks me back to my room. Hopelessness descends over me. I have never loved anything or anyone before now. The concept has always eluded me. I've been taught that love is painful and well meaning emotions are rarely returned. _Funny how one sliver of time can change everything you spent your life believing_, I muse.

Once again, I have ruined everything. It's what I'm good at, I've been told. It is probably better this way, I admit, I don't deserve Bella Swan's warmth or compassion. I am dangerous and unpredictable-even to my own family.

Pacing back and forth in my room, I argue with the _others _about Bella Swan and her place in our life. Between their banter, I realize resistance is futile. The decision has already been made and written into the stars. I am hers. Now, I need to know if she could ever consider being mine.

Jasper enters the room tentatively while I try and calm the others. Everyone is suddenly silent as we observe him, his usual bravado gone.

"Jas, I'm so sorry," I tell him honestly.

"I was only trying to help," he says, the hurt evident in his voice.

He sits on the edge of his bed, his palms pressing into the mattress by his sides, his shoulders high and his head low. He is not his normal, proud self any longer and for this I am truly apologetic.

Sitting next to him, I clasp my hands in front of me and rest my elbows on my knees.

"I don't want to be that sort of man, Jasper. The kind that uses violence first and asks questions later. Though, that is all I have ever known. It is my nature to defend and protect those that I care about."

Turning to him, I continue, "I would do the same for you brother."

Jasper gasps, his head jerking toward me. "Brother?"

"You're a good man Jasper. I should have known better than to think you would hurt her. I do think of you as a brother and I hope you can forgive me."

Jasper doesn't say anything, but reaches over and pats me twice on the back. Carlisle clears his throat in the doorway, alerting us to his presence. We look to see him beaming at us in his fatherly way.

"I'm glad you boys have worked things out," he says. "Time for breakfast."

Jasper stands, "May I escort you brother?"

"Lead the way soldier," I answer, smiling.

Breakfast is unusually quiet this morning and I am terribly disappointed. Bella and Alice never walk through the cafeteria doors. Jasper and I eat alone, with Rosalie sitting at the opposite end of the table. I had wanted to talk more with Bella. I want to learn everything about her. Even if she doesn't want to talk to me anymore after this morning, just being near her would be a great relief right now. She's been away from me too long and I feel constricted, antsy.

_Is that normal?_

_What the hell do you know about normal?_

I laugh out loud at the _others_. Rosalie scowls, but Jasper just laughs along with me. That's what I love best about Jasper, he's happy no matter who he is with or what he is doing. He doesn't long for anyone; when your gone, he doesn't miss you. Out of sight, out mind is certainly true for Jasper. I envy him that right now.

I dump my untouched breakfast into the trash receptacle and place the tray in the window to be washed. Exiting the room, I wave to Jasper. I have to find Bella. If I can just look at her, I think I'll feel at ease again. Maybe she'll let me sit outside her door or watch while she sleeps. I set a brisk pace to Alice's room trying to remember if there is a tree outside their window.

Standing outside the door, I brace myself for rejection. I run my fingers through my hair a few times, remembering that I didn't comb it this morning, then knock on the door. I wait for a minute, listening, but no one answers.

"Something wrong?" Emmett asks, startling me.

"I was looking for Bella Swan," I replied nervously, praying that she hasn't left due to my behavior.

"Bella and Alice had breakfast with Esme this morning in her office," he said, answering my unspoken question.

"Oh," I acknowledged the information, stuffing my hands in to my pockets and staring at the floor dejectedly.

"Dude, you're so emo," Emmett said loudly, rolling his eyes. "Come on, I'll walk you down there." Emmett started walking, assuming I would follow him, which I did.

Walking the hall with Emmett allowed me to observe him better. Sure, I've been here for weeks but I am not always the one in control. Emmett is mostly quiet, blending into the background easily despite his large size. He is always friendly, however, and has kind words in abundance.

"Emmett...?"

"Just ask me already, Edward," he said grinning.

"It's just...well, when I first came here Rosalie said everyone here is because there is something wrong with them. I...Is something wrong with Bella?"

Emmett stopped walking and turned to me, "Edward, you can't listen to everything Rosalie says, she...uh...well, it's like this. Everyone in the world has problems and has been through bad times. The people here have been in bad circumstances and through such terrible things that they need a little help starting over," Emmett said in a rush of words.

"Starting over?" I said tasting the words on my tongue. "I really like the sound of that. Thanks Emmett."

"Sure."

We both started walking again. Emmett clamped a hand on my shoulder and asked if I'd like to hear a joke.

"So these three pirates walk into a bar..." Emmett says, already laughing, as we round the corner. His words and laughing abruptly end as he rams straight into Bella Swan knocking her to the floor in a whoosh. A yelp of surprise escapes her as she lands. I'm on my knees beside her before I even realize my intentions.

She cradles her arm against her chest, her elbow scraped raw and bleeding.

I moan loudly, horrified, "Oh God, she's bleeding."

In despair, my hands hover her, afraid to touch. She's spilled blood in front of me twice today. I know what blood means; it means death. Death to the body, heart, and soul.

_An omen_, the others whisper.

Throwing my head back, I pull at my hair in agony, screaming out for them to shut up. Emmett grabs me roughly around the collar and jerks me to my feet.

"Keep yourself together, Edward. You're scaring her," he whispers between gritted teeth into my ear.

Frequent flashes invade my head. My fists clench, nails biting into my skin as I try to reign it all in. The _others _scramble to put away the memories. Taking deep breaths, with my eyes clenched tightly closed, I slowly regain control.

When I turn back to Emmett and Bella, he has helped her from the floor and is speaking softly, as he assess the damage. He lingers at her elbow, where she has scraped the skin raw and bloody.

Emmett looks back to me and looks sceptically into my eyes for a second. He relaxes after a moment, obviously satisfied he found what he was searching for.

"Would you like to help Bella clean up, Edward?" he asks sarcastically, with one eyebrow raised.

"Fuck yes," I say way too loud, then backtracked. "Yes, umm, I would like very much to help you Bella."

She looks up at me, smiling widely, and immediately reaches her out for me. My answering smile is beaming and my heart clenches. Suddenly, she pauses and pulls back, looking up at Emmett with uncertainty. As if he would take away something she wanted after dangling it in front of her.

_From this day forward, anyone who dares hurt this girl will die_, I thought internally. To _them_.

"Yessssss," they hiss in response.

Emmett nods encouragingly at her and she wastes no time placing her hand in mine. I take it gratefully and with a grin, raise it above my head, twirling her under my arm. She blushes the prettiest shade of pink, and her eyelashes flutter against her rosy cheeks.

"Beautiful," I whisper reverently.

She gasps and I realize that she has heard me. Clearing my throat, to hide my embarrassment, I ask, "Will you come with me?"

"Anywhere," she replies with conviction.

Emmett pats me on the back and, with a wink, excuses himself as I guide Bella to the nearest washroom, my hand on the small of her back.

I hold the door open for her as she glides past me into the small space. She turns the tap water on and holds her arm under the stream. Seeing her blood rush down the drain brings the flashes back in full force and I stagger back against the wall under the overwhelming flood of memories.

Over and over, I see a version of myself in front of the mirror in the midst of a panic attack, blood on my hands but no water to wash it away. No water to drink or cook with, no water to wash my clothes, no water to rinse my body of filth.

Her hand on the back of neck stops the flood, hushes the voices. I open my eyes, and she stands before me like an angel, having driven away my demons.

"Edward?"

Snapping out of it, I look down at her face and notice the creased brow and wide, concerned eyes. I've never felt so fucked up. I should leave this girl alone. I'm sure she's had plenty to deal with in her life, if it's led her here. I know exactly what I should I say to send her away and make damn sure she never wants to be near me again but to do so would be the blackest kind of blasphemy.

Why should I have to give up something that I want, no, something that I _need_? I have given everything for my purpose. My entire life I have seen things that I love disappear. Taught that complaining makes me a pussy. Led to believe that wanting more for myself is selfish. I'm sick of other people's choices taking away my own. I won't do that to her.

"Bella, you should stay away from me. We...shouldn't be friends, but I really want to be," I tell her as I stare at the wall over her shoulder, unable to meet her gaze.

She takes her hand away from my cheek and places her index fingers over temples, rubbing vigorously.

"You're so confusing it makes my head ache," she says, moaning a little.

I sigh deeply and pull her to me gently. She rests her head against my chest, allowing me this intimacy without a word, and I know I'll tell her. I'll tell her everything, as soon as I find the words in my vocabulary to explain, and let her decide if I am worth the trouble. I'll find a way to show her and make her understand that no matter how impossible it may seem, and no matter how difficult it may be at times, I can take care of her. I have many attributes on my side, well, none that I can think of right now but just wanting to be a better person should count for something. I hope.

I decide to wait and find the right words, wait and let her get to know me a little, wait and...

"Bella, may I kiss you?"

Shit, that's not what I meant to say. The voices chuckle at me, some while blushing profusely. I had meant to say that we should take things slow. I had meant to tell her that she was special. While all that is still true, it's out there now and I really want to fucking kiss her. Eagerly, I await her decision as she stands, biting her lip, and considering.

Just as I begin to wonder if she is going to run away from me screaming, she pushes up on her toes and places a light kiss to my jaw. It's not exactly what I had in mind but it's perfect and I am unable to stop the smile that threatens to burst my cheeks apart.

"Thank you," I breath out, still feeling a tingle on my skin from her touch.

She grins at me and we exit together, holding hands.

"This will end badly," one whispers. "When she finds out what you are-that you have no control."

I ignore the voice in my head. Being with her right now is all I care about. Everything else be damned.

"You'll damn her too," he says, menacingly.

This information gives me pause because I know it's true, I'm just as damned as I seem. My steps falter and I stop walking, not looking at her.

"Edward don't."

"What?" I snap too harshly.

She winces but steps closer to me anyway. "You're over thinking again."

How does she know? Am I that transparent? She looks at me and I feel like a brand new man. Her eyes hold so much concern. Shouldn't I be the one comforting her? For one second it occurs to me what is wrong with this girl that she could have sympathy for the devil.

"Edward, you are such a beautiful disaster," she says, giggling.

My heart clenches at her words, "You think I'm beautiful?"

"Dazzling," she adds laughing. It's contagious and I find myself laughing with her, my somber mood dissipating. For once the voices have nothing to say.

I walk her to her room and tell her to rest. I don't want to leave her but I know I need some distance to clear my head. I head to my room and flop down on the bed, thankful Jasper's not here right now.


	6. Chapter 6

After some solitude, a little brooding, and a lot of soul searching, I feel better about things when Emmett knocks on my door to announce that it is lunchtime.

I enter the cafeteria, eager to see Bella again. Spotting her at a table by herself, I stop walking and and stand still, just watching her for a minute. I notice the way she moves and all the little things that make her Bella.

She bends one leg and places her foot in the seat with her and the chair wobbles. I can't help but chuckle to myself. Of course, she sits on the one chair in the cafeteria that is wobbly.

_Maybe she's drawn to things that are broken. Does she choose them or do they choose her?_

Ignoring that comment, I watch as she places her foot back on the floor, looking sewn to see if something is under a leg of the seat. Seeing nothing, she shrugs her shoulders and scoots forward to distribute her weight, instead of moving to another chair.

_I think she chooses them._

Bella reaches to pick up her milk and drags the sleeve of her shirt through the chili on her tray. She doesn't appear to even notice as she pulls the carton to her. She struggles with the container, trying to open it. When she can't get the spout to pop out, she sticks her nail inside the cardboard to pull it open.

"Ow!" she says yelps, jumping slightly in her seat.

I'm behind her before I realize I have moved. "Bella," I say, worried.

She yelps, jumping again and spinning toward me. "Edward, you startled me."

She gazes back down at her finger where she has broken a nail. The very same finger she paper cut this morning, the band-aid still wrapped tightly round it.

The carton of milk sits in front of her, a drip of blood sliding down the front. I feel dizzy as the memories infiltrate, gallon milk jugs spread haphazardly across a bloody floor. Water carried from the creek out back and boiled for bathing. The anger wells inside of me, as comprehension at the unfairness of the situation spreads through me to the others.

Water for _him_, but none for me, even though he washed yesterday and the day before and I can't remember when I last bathed. The cold, masculine voice of Anthony's father hurls insults that roll around inside my head like a marble on track, infecting us all. Over the years since my existence, the marbles have increased rapidly until there are too many for the track to accommodate. I suppose you could say it snapped.

Some hide their eyes and cover their ears, they don't want to know. _Those _only exist because of their innocence. However, keeping these secrets will ultimately destroy us all. It's true some may die so that Anthony can live. There is a very good chance that I may not come out on the other side of this unscathed.

I think about Bella and how much I want to be with her, how happy she makes me feel. Will she miss me if Anthony takes over? Will he love her as much I already do? How will she feel about the others? Momentarily, I am overwhelmed with the burden I carry.

There is no such thing as forever. Tomorrow holds no promises for me, the demons could come at any time. I will do my penance in hell, of this I have no misconceptions. Is it fair to bring Bella into this? _What will become of her if I lose control? _The questions that I am unable to answer are many. Bella doesn't deserve to be dragged into my darkness but I can't help myself, I am unable to stay from her.

Smiling assuredly, I take her hand and lightly kiss the abused finger.

"So are you always this accident prone?" I ask, then cringe realizing I've just insulted her. She just laughs though, quipping, "Yeah. You better be careful, my dangerous ways may rub off on you."

_Ditto_.

She stares down at her lap, her face blushing. "Are you always this heroic?" she asks.

The irony of her question does not elude me. While I cannot tell her what I am and what I have done, it is only fair to warn her.

"No Bella, I am not always so heroic. Sometimes I have to be the bad guy." There. I told her. Now she can run away afraid of me.

"_It's better this way_," one voice whispers.

Bella lifts her head and looks into my eyes. "I don't believe that," she says sincerely.

_This girl has no survival instincts. Utterly absurd._

I am a selfish bastard for taking advantage of her naivety. It's one thing to make myself miserable but a whole other matter to be so involved.

_She should be afraid._

I don't want her to be scared and I crave her company far too much to do what I should and walk away. I hold her hand in mine and rub circles on the back with my thumb.

I hear snickering to my left and, turning, I see Rosalie sitting with another girl. They are giggling loudly and pointing at Bella. When I look back to Bella, red face is red in shame, her back bowed, hiding her face again.

"Come for a walk with me Bella?"

"Yes," she whispers after a pause, still with her face hidden.

I follow her from the room and down the hallway, our hips brushing as we walk side by side.

"Can I ask you some questions?" I inquire. She arches an eyebrow, her expression guarded. Hastily, I add, "Nothing too personal. I just want to know you better."

"Depends," she says. "Can I ask you questions too?"

"Okay," I agree. "We'll take turns."

She smiles nodding and we continue to walk, asking each other about likes and dislikes, making sure to steer clear of heavier topics. Before I know it we are in a part of the hospital that I have never seen before. It doesn't bother me much as I would gladly get lost with Bella any day.

Piercing shrieks halt our progress. The sickening screams of someone in the throes of severe pain fill the corridor. I know that sound. I hate that sound. Some of the voices cry and hide in the bookshelves. My gut clenched in fear. I want so badly to run and hide as well. There was a time when these sounds would have brought the guardian in me but this is different.

I have only ever protected myself, and now Bella. I don't know how to feel about another's pain. I don't know how to deal with it. I feel sick, nauseous, with indecision. I won't risk Bella's safety, of that I am sure. But do I leave the screamer to his pain? The bully to his abuse. Can I turn my back and walk away? This is my home now, shall I not protect it, prevent the cycle from beginning? Likewise, am I able to walk into a minefield and set myself up for insults and mistreatment? I know from experience that trying to come between an abuser and his victim can have severe consequences.

My feet move unintentionally forward, closer to the sound of screams. At the end of the hall, a door stands ajar. A small woman in a white lab coat moves about the space, oblivious the sounds she elicits from the man strapped to the bed before her. The woman wears a name tag over her right breast declaring that she is Dr. Kate.

She moves around the man's bed, placing small circles with connecting wires over his naked form. I can see from where I stand that the wires link to a metal box. When Dr. Kate turns a dial on the box, the man's body jerks convulsively.

I look down into Bella's terrified eyes and I know what must be done. The girl is devastated from this horrific sight. A sympathetic voice whispers a simple plan into my ear. _Get her out of here. _I grab Bella's arm, swiftly pulling her back the way we had come.

Down the corridor, I open a door and drag Bella in to the stairwell with me.

"Edward, please slow down," she begs.

I had been a man on a mission and I hadn't taken into account what Bella might need. Maybe she needed me to stop the torture we had witnessed. Perhaps she'd like to go back and watch me rip Dr. Kate's head off. It might make her feel better to have closure. I know it would make me feel better.

Letting go of her abruptly, I stopped to find out what she wants to do. I notice that her breathing is rapid and she rubs at her arm.

"Bella, I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was walking so fast." My eyes followed the movement of the circles she rubbed onto her arm. "Bella, what happened?" I inquired, moving her hand away so that I could see her purple bruises were forming on her upper arm. When I placed my hand over the marks, my fingers matched with the bruises.

Dropping her arm as if I had been scalded, I stepped away from her.

"Edward, don't. It's all right."

"It's all right that I hurt you? Left marks on you?" I gasp out, appalled.

"Edward, you did it to help me right?"

"That doesn't...that's not..." I pace, pulling my air. How could she think this was okay?

"Edward? If someone were running at me with a knife. Wouldn't you push me out of the way?"

"Of course," I answer, annoyed at her line of questioning.

"Even though when you pushed me, I might fracture my wrist or something?"

"Bella, you're being absurd. Of course I would still place you out of danger. It's better for you to have a sore wrist than be dead."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I immediately stop pacing and looked into her smiling eyes. She was right, she knew it and now she knows I know it.

"You take everything so coolly — it's unnatural. It makes me wonder what you're really thinking."

"You don't really want to know that, Edward," she says, looking down shyly.

"I want to know whatever you want to tell me," I assure her. Sitting sewn on the steps, I motion for her to sit next to me but instead she climbs into my lap. I could get used to this. Feeling needed is very agreeable to me. I brush her back from her face in what I hope is a soothing manner. I want to be everything for her.

"That really scared me back there," she admits.

I placed my hand on the back of her neck and rubbed her cheek with my thumb. "I'm so sorry," I tell her honestly.

"I've been scared for a long time," she says almost wistfully, her voice becoming small.

"What are you scared of Bella? I can make it go away," I whisper determinedly.

_Yes_!

"You can't help me Edward. There is no one to make go away. There's no one at all," she said mournfully, her voice breaking at the end.

She wiped at her eyes and sat a little straighter, attempting to steady herself.

"My story really starts about five years ago when my mother, Renee, began feeling trapped in her life. She wanted a way out, so she opted for a divorce from my father, Charlie, who was heartbroken when she left," she began.

"Renee tried taking me with her on her search for happiness. She had me packed and in the car with her as we started driving out of the small Washington town we lived in. She didn't even make it out of the city limits before getting pulled over by the police."

She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before shrugging her shoulders. "I never thought she had the chance, really. My father was chief of police after all. So my mom was arrested for attempted kidnapping and that was what began the two year custody battle over me. The beginning of the end I guess you could say," she laughed bitterly.

"My father wanted me with him. He felt he was the only one who could protect me and raise me right. He didn't want my mother's insane actions influencing me in any way. He told me that he just wanted me to have a stable childhood, maintaining the same friends at the same schools in Forks. My mother wanted me with her; she felt that my father was too strict on me. She wanted me to be able to experience life away from the drab little prison, as she put it. She felt that having friends all over the country and learning different ways of life would be better for making me a well-rounded person. And I was torn between them."

She paused momentarily, breathing deeply, before she continued. "My mother could barely take care of herself, and she needed me to keep her grounded – well as grounded as she could get. Without me, she couldn't remember to pay the bills or take her medication. Little things like that. It was like she was my daughter and I was her mom. My father worked more often than not, keeping our little burb safe. As the city grew, so did the amount of time he worked. It was my job to make sure he ate healthy. I made sure he was never late for a shift and had clothing to wear."

I held up my hand, interrupting her, " So you took care of them. Who took care of you?"

Bella snorted loudly, shaking her head at me and rolling her eyes. She didn't answer, just resumed her story.

"After two years of court appointed psychiatrists, lawyers, and paperwork, the judge made the decision that I was to stay with my father. My mother was distraught over the judgment. She refused to move from Forks, unless I could go with her. But since that was not an option, my mother turned to drinking to help deal with the fact she was stuck in life. Charlie had even managed get the judge to allow almost no visitation with my mother. I was allowed to talk to her on the phone once a week, and see her once a month. I missed her but I was kind of glad it was over and that I had some stability for a change."

I nodded in understanding, motioning for her to continue.

"Life seemed to be going okay. I was going to Forks High School West, enrolled in the advanced placement program. My grades were stellar. I was accepted into UW Seattle under their early admissions program. I was even awarded a full scholarship to attend, meaning the financial burden on my father would be light. I was just a few short months away from graduation. Just few short months…" she trailed off and I knew that the worst was coming.

I touched her skin everywhere I could. Giving soft caresses for comfort. Tears ran in a steady stream now as she began again to talk. "I was out with my friends at a study session at the Forks Café. Really it was more of hanging out, eating, and talking about boys and kids from Forks High School East. We finished up early and I drove myself home in my old red truck. When I got there, I recognized my mother's car parked crookedly in the driveway. It surprised me that she was there. I admit, I was a little excited too. I couldn't wait to share the news of my scholarship."

She pressed her hands over face, mumbling, "I was so stupid."

Prying her hands away, I shook my head no.

"Let me finish before you judge," she said sternly. I nodded and sat back to listen. She continued robotically, as if she were telling about a movie she had watched.

"I ran into my house all excited to talk to my mom, but was welcomed to the sight of Renee shooting my father with his own gun. I remember screaming at the top of my lungs, 'Mother! What the hell are you doing?'

"She looked at me in shock. She began explaining how it was for the best. That it was her turn to have me with her before I left for college. She was begging me to just go on the run with her.

" 'Mother, I'm not going with you. You're drunk,' I yelled at her.

"She grabbed my arm and I did what I thought was right and tried fighting her off of me. All I did was succeed in making her mad. She threw me against the steps. I hit them hard, screaming as my head bashed against one of the risers. She stood before me pointing the gun at me. Between that and the bout of dizziness from my head knock, I couldn't think straight.

"She took the opportunity of my silence to speak. 'Bella, baby, you need to understand my point of view here. Your father has had you in his life for the past few years. We've grown apart. I just want one last moment of time for just us.'

" 'So you killed him?' I screamed to her at the top of my lungs.

"And she came back with, 'Your father deserved it. He was being selfish and not sharing you. I did it for you… for us, can't you see that Bella?'

"By then I was feeling just sick. My father was gone. My mother was had lost all sense of sanity. I just screamed at her, 'No, mom. What you did was fucking wrong! I can't believe you shot him!'

"Her hand, holding the gun, started to tremble and she spat at me through clenched teeth, 'You uppity little bitch. You think I was wrong for wanting you? You think you're better than me? That's what he thought. And look at him… look at him!'

"I refused to turn my head, and she reached out with her free hand, squeezed my cheeks and forced me to see my father. He was on the couch, blood splashed across the painting over it. There was a hole where is left eye was.

"I clenched my eyes shut and quietly whimpered my father's name, 'Charlie…' Tears were pouring down my cheeks. I could barely breathe.

"My mother pulled my head back so I was facing her. She leaned down to meet me eye-to-eye. She spoke in growls, saying, "You dare mumble his name? You insolent bitch. You've always loved him more. You love him so much… then fucking join him.

"That's when she stepped back and raised the gun, pointing it towards my chest, She fired and it hit my shoulder. I screamed in pain. She was yelling at me to stop, and I just couldn't.

"Then she lifted the gun again, this time pointing it at my head. I closed my eyes and didn't say a word. I just waited for it to be over and said a little prayer that it would be quick and painless.

"The shot rang out and next think I knew, I felt this burning across my temple and down the left side of my head. I fell back and laid motionless as I was preparing for a third shot. I just wanted it all to end.

"But, instead, my mother came to my side. She used her sweet motherly voice as she whispered to me, 'Baby. I am so sorry I did this to you. This is not how I wanted things to go. You should have just come with me.'

"It got quiet for a moment… I thought for sure I was dying. It was just too quiet. Then I heard the gun cock and a shot ring out. I felt my mother fall into me. I didn't bother opening my eyes to look. It was just easier to slip into the darkness.

"A few days later, I woke in the hospital, screaming from night terrors. The doctor sedated me and I returned to sleep. And that began the recurring cycle of night terrors. Now here I am... almost a month later... a patient at Forest Meadow Mental Health Facility."

She looked to me narrowing her eyes, her voice cold, "So there you go Edward. I am a mess. My mother killed my father and herself and tried to kill me. There's no coming back from something like that. Ever. Normal is what I'll never be again. So you see Edward, there's nothing you can do to help me because the thing that's wrong is inside of me."

I sat stunned. This beautiful broken woman is...is...the same as me. Hastening to reassure her after my silence, "Bella, you're not going to push me away. Normal is something I know very little about."

I look down the stairwell and back behind me, making sure we are still alone before taking her face in my palms and urging her to look at me. "I hear voices, in my head," I tell her in a whisper.

"So you don't think I'm a freak?" she asks, frowning.

I throw my head back laughing. "Silly Bella. I just told you I hear voices in my head and you think you're the freak?"

She rolls her eyes, but gives a little laugh, seeing the absurdity of the situation.

"I can handle that," she says. "I mean, if there's more, I can probably handle a little more. Is there more?" She starts rambling incessantly and I hold up a hand to silence her.

"Enough. I've already said more than I should." I ran a hand through my hair, pulling at the ends. "I've got to quit telling you everything before it becomes habit."

I help her gently back to her feet then stand, offering my hand. "Come on, let's get you back to your room so you can rest. You've had a long day."

We walked in silence to her room, each of us lost in her own thoughts. I can't stand the thought of her hurting. I need to do something. I'm a man of action.

We stop in front of her door and she stands on her toes to kiss my cheek. Her skin is ashen and her eyes swollen and bloodshot. I cannot bear to see her this way. I'd give her anything, everything, is only she'd let me.

"Tell me _something_... _anything... _Bella, that I can do to make you feel better. Please." I plead.

A small smile plays on her lips. I'm going mad and she's smiling? Oh how I wish I could read her mind. She never does what I expect her to do.

"Please Bella, if you value my sanity, tell me what you're thinking," I say, my voice sounding strained even to me.

"Books," she answers simply.

"Books?" I questioned. I couldn't wrap my mind around the strange request. I thought girls liked flowers and frilly stuff.

"Yeah, well I really like to read. It's takes my mind off of everything. I can forget when I read. Sort of enter a whole new world. You know?" she asks, sounding unsure.

Smiling to reassure her, respond. "Okay, so books."

She nods, grinning, and waves goodbye to me as she enters her room and closes the door.

Jamming my hands in my pockets, I continue down the hall, feeling lighter than I ever have before. The voices were strangely quiet except for the occasional snickering and showing of Playboy centerfolds.

Ignoring them, I head for Carlisle's office. Knocking lightly on his door, I hear him call out to enter. Poking my head through the door, I ask if he has a moment for me.

"Of course, Edward, please come in," he says politely.

"I'd like to speak with you about Bella," I admit, taking a seat across from his desk in the small room.

"Okay," Carlisle agrees, propping his elbows on the desk and steeping his hands.

Suddenly nervous, I am unsure what to say. I suppose this wasn't a well thought out plan. Carlisle has already given me so much, a home, a family, and wide berth. He doesn't push me like the others and I am eternally grateful for the blessings he has bestowed upon this wretched body. _Do I even have a right to bother him with this request?_

_For Bella._

And those words just might be my undoing, but nevertheless, I am reminded of my mission. "I want to see about getting her some books. She's very stressed and feels that books would aid in her suffering. She's very fond of them, you see, and I'd like very much to be able to do this for her."

"I'm sorry Edward. I can't do that. As a rule we don't allow new patients such items until they can be properly evaluated."

Before I can interject, he holds up a hand, effectively silencing me and continues. "One must be cautious, in Bella's case especially. As a part of her condition it is customary to retreat within. Items such as you speak, only exacerbate the symptoms. They allow her to run and hide from her problems, instead of facing them head on."

Carlisle smiles sadly, "Sound familiar, Edward?"

It does sound familiar and I say nothing as guilt turns my stomach and my jaw clenches painfully. Anthony. He's never going to listen. I keep trying to tell him. The others and I taking photos of every memory to make him understand but he doesn't want to. He ignores the Polaroids now as much as he can. He can't ignore them all though, small pieces infiltrate, I can feel it. It's chipping away at him but I'm beginning to wonder if he can handle the stress of the truth.

In this case, I too, must follow orders to a degree. I do not make the plans, I have not enough control for that. No, this course has been set and we shall see where the track ends when Anthony snaps. For that is an eventuality that we can all see.

As a gallant, last ditch effort for Bella, I mumble weakly.

"But, Alice has various books. So does Rose and Jasper." I whine, sounding like a petulant child even to my own ears.

"I'm not saying never, I'm just saying, not at this time. I know you want to help her and that is very commendable. You're a good man, Edward."

Looking up sharply, I search his face for sarcasm but I find none. No one has ever said that to me before. Self loathing overwhelms me and I slump in my seat. No one has ever said it because it's not true.

I'm the reason teachers warn students not to venture into the shadows. The reason parents tell their children to be home before dark. I'm the boogie man lurking around your home. A creature of the night slipping through your bedroom window. A monster.

Carlisle breaks through my racking remorse, imploringly. "Edward you have got to focus on getting yourself better before you take on the responsibility of someone else. Getting better is the best way that you can help Bella."

He smiles knowing he has caught my attention in a way I cannot deny. "Since I can't gift Bella at this time. Perhaps you'll allow me to offer you a gift instead."

Carlisle pulls open a drawer, taking out a leather bound notebook. Handing it to me he explains that I can take notes, or draw in this journal to release my feelings.

Back in my room, I lay on my bed, thinking over what Carlisle said about getting better for Bella. The problem is that getting better might just take me away from her forever. While that thought makes my chest ache, I know that Bella deserves better than what I can give her. All I want is for her to be happy, even if that means me walking away.

It is with this thought that the others agree, and a plan is whispered. Already, we are leaving photographic memories for Anthony. Possibly this journal would provide another means to relaying our messages.

Without hesitation, I take the journal and begin to write, in detail, the recovered memories from earlier today with Bella.

I write late into the night. My only other thought of how to get Bella a book.

*~* **Carlisle's POV ***~*

After Anthony leaves my office, I log into my computer, and begin my verbal notes for the evening.

"Wednesday, January 19. It's been an eventful day here in our ward. The new patient Isabella Swan, Bella, seems to be adjusting to her new surroundings better than I had originally hoped when I first met her this morning.

"It seems though that Anthony Masen, through the personality he's created, Edward, has taken notice in her. It seems that he feels he is her protector and watches her closely. Although I think it is one of the reasons, Bella seems to be fitting in here, I am concerned what will happen when Anthony's personality changes again. I worry how that will impact Bella negatively.

"Jasper Whitlock seems to be taking the day in stride. He seems to have snapped out of his upset state after Anthony/Edward pushed him this morning. I listened in on the apology that was offered to Jasper. I think he was brought around by Anthony/Edward using the term brother. He has never had that association before in his life and seemed to warm up to it immediately.

"I was hopeful that Rosalie would be a little less withdrawn with the event of a new ward mate, but she seems to have remained withdrawn. Her angry interjections may be a sign that she is repressing her feelings. I intend on talking with her later tonight when Esme can be present as Rose seems to respond positively to her.

"Alice was thrilled with having a new roommate. She instantly warmed up with Bella. I do hope that Bella, who acts like an eighteen year old should, will help Alice move beyond her childlike impulses. Only time will tell how having that older, more age appropriate interaction will help.

"Note about Anthony Masen... This evening he came into my office and asked me man-to-man about getting Bella a book. While I did have to turn him down at this point and time, I did offer him something that I hope will aid him in dealing with everything that has happened. I gave him the journal and explained that he should use it to piece together those puzzle pieces that he's recovering, one at a time. I also suggested that he should write his feelings about the day-to-day life here.

"He seemed a little reluctant at first, but eventually took the journal from me. I'll check in periodically to make sure he's using that journal. I hope this will give me insight to his other identities so that I can start logging each one and their behaviour traits. I anticipate that this will unlock a lot of mysteries for Anthony and maybe he can start becoming whole again.

I turn off the recording and make several copies onto discs for the patients' records. Just as I am finishing there is a knock on my door. Esme opens it and pops her head in.

"You busy?" she asks with a bright smile.

"Just finishing. Are you ready to go down to Rosalie's room?"

"I was just picking you up for that date."

I chuckle at her and say, "Let's go." I pick up my note pad and escort Esme down the hall.


	7. Chapter 7

**7.**

**Forest Meadow Mental Health Facility**

**Physician: **Dr. Carlisle Cullen

**Time/Date: **7:26 am, Thursday, January 20th

**Ward/Floor: **S. Meyer Wing, 5th floor minimum security

**OBSERVATIONS****:**

**Masen, Anthony**

At last check, Anthony remains under the impression that he is Edward. I am anxious to see if he's put the journal to use. I hope that if he did use it, he is willing to share it with me. I won't force the issue at this point. I have his trust and want to keep it. As always make sure the staff immediately notifies me of any changes in his demeanor. He cannot keep with the Edward personality for much longer. At some point something may trigger a change.

**Whitlock, Jasper**

I am pleasantly surprised to see Jasper completing his morning routine. I was expecting some sort of set back last night as he's done in the past after such an incident as yesterday. I am thrilled to see that Anthony's personality is having such a positive effect on him. We do need to monitor him closely, though. We need to make sure all of his interactions remain positive. Continue to administer Clozapine on schedule.

**Hale, Rosalie  
**After last night's discussion with Rosalie, it's evident she doesn't feel safe with Edward in the ward, citing his treatment of her that first day. Esme has promised to try and help Rosalie with feeling safe during the day. McCarty has been instructed to keep watch during her interactions with him. I should note that Rosalie insisted that he be the one to watch out for her. It may seem that some progress was made as she is putting some trust in a man. Administer her current Zoloft dosage as scheduled.

**Swan, Isabella  
**Her first night here was rough. Felix Volturri noted that she would wake up, screaming and not wanting anyone to touch her. Her night terrors are not what the previous doctors had noted, making them seem mild and unimportant. If these terrors keep up or increase, we may consider placing Bella on sedatives (Zolpidem ie Ambien or Eszopiclone ie Lunesta) to aid her in getting a full night's sleep. I am unsure of how long she has been sleeping for approximately an hour or two a night. I will not let this continue. Notify McCarty and Volturri to allow her naps and keep track of any sleep she receives. If there's no improvement after a few days, prescription will be our next option. Continue to administer 20mg of Prozac on schedule.

**Brandon, Mary Alice**

*~*~*~*** Dr. Calisle Cullen's POV** *~*~*~*

As I write Alice's name, I realize that I hadn't seen her yet that morning. I find it odd since she is usually one of the first two patients I greet.

I close the chart and walk the halls, looking for her. I peek into Anthony's and Jasper's room to find no sign of Anthony, Jasper, or Alice. As I walk to the common area, I almost walk into Emmett who is watching Rosalie flip through a magazine in the corner. Jasper is studying a civil war book and making notes.

"Emmett, have you seen Alice this morning?" I ask with some concern in my voice.

"I saw her walking down the hall near her room, carrying her animal cracker box as a purse and some crayons. That was about ten minutes ago."

I thank him and walk towards Alice's room. As I arrive, I look in the room to find Bella sitting on her bed, quietly staring out of the window across the room.

"Bella, have you seen Alice?"

She keeps her gaze out of the window, somewhere far and distant, as she quietly answers, "No."

"Thank you for your help, Bella. I appreciate it," I say in an assuring voice, hoping that it helps her to feel a little safe.

I resume my walk down the hall peeking into rooms and offices with no avail. As I round the corner, I happen upon Alice coloring away on the wall, drawing some giant wall mural.

"Mary Alice Brandon! What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

*~*~*~* Anthony's POV *~*~*~*

Waking alone in a strange bed is terrifying enough without the shouting outside my door. I don't know what to do. Drawing my knees up to chest, I huddle under the covers.

_I don't want to be here. I don't want to be here. Please. I don't want to be here._

I want so badly to go back to my safe place. I feel a push though, something, or someone keeping me out.

Indecision overwhelms me. I don't know what to do. _Will the shouting voices descend on me next? Will I be in trouble if I am in bed?_ I spring from the bed with that thought. I pace back and forth, back and forth, between the bed and the door. _Will it be better if I just go out there and face the consequences-for surely there are some?_

Unable to bear the terror any longer, I open the door, no more than three inches, just enough to see out with one eye. A man in a white coat is scolding a young woman who is pouting petulantly. The girl crosses her arms and huffs dramatically as the man points to a wall where a large red dragon has been drawn.

I don't like the dragon. I hate the red. It scares me. I try not to look at it. The man looks over and notices me. I wish he hadn't. I don't trust them. _Men hit and women ignore_. I can't remember how I know this but I do. _Someone must have told me_. Shrinking back, I close the door a little, still carefully watching them.

_It's alright Anthony,_ a melodic voice, inside my head, soothes.

"Edward?" the man asks.

I shake my head no.

"Anthony?"

Nodding, I ask softly, "Are you mad at me?"

"No," he answers quickly. "I'm not angry with anyone," he says, glancing at the girl.

"I'd like very much to speak with you Anthony."

"Do I have to?" I question, nervously. Scared to hear his answer, I glance around the hall, not wanting to meet the man's gaze. The dragon on the wall gives me a shiver so I avert my eyes to the side.

"No," he finally answers, begrudgingly. I can tell he wants to say more but he doesn't. He just watches me. My gaze is automatically drawn to the dragon and I close my eyes to avoid the sight.

Gasping, my eyes pop back open. Then, I close them again to make sure of what I have seen. Like sunspots on an especially sunny day, when I close my eyes I see no dragons, but red hand prints on a similar white wall. Photographic memories flood my brain and it hurts. My head thumps like a jackhammer, making my neck stiff and my teeth ache. I know what the prints mean, the memory is right there for me grasp but I don't want it.

"Please leave me alone," I whine, slamming the door.

In the corner of the room, my back pressing against the wall, I slide down and hug my knees. I'm scared to close my eyes now. I try not to even blink but my eyes burn and I must. Every flash brings a whimper from my lips.

A stray sunbeam pierces through the window and lands on a small black notebook.

"No. Please," I beg miserably.

_Be brave Anthony. Just a little while longer, _the voice implores.

I have no choice but to rise and retrieve the book. Something has been set into motion and I am powerless to stop it. No fight lives inside of me. Only fear. My feet are shuffled for me across the floor, and my hands reach out of their own accord.

My hands tremble as I read of blood and unpaid bills, hunger and filth. It's all familiar, too familiar and my heartbeat accelerates to the point that I am sure it will burst through my chest. Again, the feeling of the knowledge being within me overcomes me and again, I push them aside. The voice sighs heavily as I begin to cry, great racking sobs echoing in the small room, and I collapse to the floor.

_Suffer. Suffocate. Suffer. Suffocate._

My body writhes with tremors that slowly spread from the inside out. The door swings open and though I have no control over my limbs, I can see the man in white enter and sit on the bed cautiously watching me. The girl from the hallway and two others enter as well. Falling to their knees around me, weeping.

A young man and the girl both look around my age. The boy appears terrified and wipes at his eyes unashamed. He hugs the tiny woman but both are inconsolable. The pretty girl...

_Bella_.

...leans over me, touching everywhere, repeating the name Edward hysterically.

The man in white is now crouching by my side with a syringe. I do not fight. I wouldn't if I could. I want him to take it away. Take me away. Calming numbness spreads through my veins as I fade to black.

Tyler

Waking in Edward's bed, I swing my legs over the side and sit up, slightly dizzy. More than that, I am pissed off at Anthony for being such a pussy.

"Soldier?" the blond man called Jasper asks.

"Tyler," I correct him, rising to my feet.

"Oh hey Tyler!" Jasper drawls easily, with a wave of his hand.

Suddenly he stands from his bed and walks over to me, his eyes shining. "Hey, do you ever wish your name was Tom?"

"Tom?" I question with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, then I could walk up to women and say, 'Meet Tom, Dick, and Harry.'" Jasper explained animatedly, as if the knowledge should blow my mind.

"Okay...?"

He rolls his eyes at me and then points to his head, "Tom." He then points to his groin, indicating his cock and balls. "Dick and Harry. Get it?" He laughs loudly, proclaiming himself a genius.

After a moment, his face turns serious and he sits beside me on the bed hesitantly. "Want to see a picture of my loved ones back at home?"

Jasper pulls a folded picture out of his sock. It appears to have been ripped from a magazine and features a beautiful man and woman in a western scene. Both are wearing loin cloths, standing in front of horses.

"Which one?" I ask him.

"Both," he answers with a wink and a grin. "My love knows no bounds."

I shake my head at him. The guy is hard not to like though and I soon find myself laughing along.

Jasper grows quiet and the air around us becomes uncomfortable. Finally, he speaks up. "Soldier..."

"Tyler," I interrupt.

"Tyler," he amends. "Listen, I know how hard it is being in battle day in and day out. War breaks a man down. The constant fighting, with the enemy surrounding you, it's hard to let down your guard."

He stops, turning to face me. "No point in living and nothing to fight for if we don't enjoy ourselves from time to time," he says pointedly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I say cutting him off quickly. I know where this is headed and I don't want to hear it.

Jasper huffs but stands and walks to the door. "I'm going to practice some drill maneuvers," he calls over his shoulder, conversation seemingly ended. But then he turns back to me, quipping, "Not everyone can recite poetic bullshit and brood prettily all damn day."

_Asshole_. I throw my pillow at him but he ducks out the door, slamming it behind him. The pillow bounces off the wall to the floor and I stand to retrieve it.

Jasper opens the door, leaning back in. "Want to come with me?"

"Not this time Jas, I have to find a library."

He looks at me skeptically but then shrugs his shoulder, closing the door again.

I took a long look in the mirror after Jasper left. He was fun. I hadn't had a lot of fun. It wasn't like me to participate in life, I usually prefer to stay at a distance and observe. I can't make sense of the chaos of life. I want people to do the right thing, even the right thing isn't always a clear cut path, it seems to me that people only care for themselves and someone always gets short changed. It pisses me off, fucking pussies.

_I gave you a job._

"Yeah, I know."

Fucking Edward came to me and made me put away my reading. A job he said, mumbling about being sick and tired of my attitude toward everything but remaining a spectator. I wanted to punch him but he grew more solemn as he explained that the favor he requested was for the illustrious Bella Swan.

Yes, I had seen here through the others eyes but I wanted to see for myself. She looked an average girl, someone who I would meet in class in school if I was normal. Maybe that's why we drawn to her because she seems just as fucked up as we are.

_Will you stop moping and get the damn book!_

Right, a book for Bella. That's my assignment. However, I was also promised that I would be able to meet my new sister, Alice and I was going to make sure I got the opportunity. I had a sister once...

_Don't_.

"It's wrong not to remember, Edward. We all loved her. You can't take her memory or the pain away."

_Tyler please, the young ones will hear._

Edward's imploring doesn't do any good as images fill my mind of the day I came to be. Born of desperation-that's me. Poor Anthony never had a chance. There were already others when I was born of necessity. I wasn't the first or the last. We each serve a purpose though I tend to distance myself from the others. I care about them all but sometimes that's a bad thing-caring.

I cared for that little girl as soon as I opened my eyes to this life and watched her dangle from a rope, the light gone from her eyes. Whether or not the father figure actually tied the noose is irrelevant to me. It's his fault, everything is his fault.

_Do you want Cedric to hear you?_

"No. I'm sorry Edward."

_Then what do you want?_

"I want what I always want-justice."

_No amount of your justice will bring her back Tyler, Edward whispers sadly._

"Goddamnit!" I scream, balling my hands into fists and punching the wall.

_What's the problem here, Richard asks. Am I going to have to come and bail you out?_

"Fuck you Richard! I don't need you to bail me out of anything. Justice, thy name is Tyler."

_Justice or insecurity?_

"Shut up Richard and go back to your porn magazines and let me take care of business."

Slipping into my shoes, I head out the door and follow Edward's directions to Alice's room. I just want to spend time with her. Feed off of her innocence for a while. I need it.

When I spot her, she's sitting on the floor with a book in her hands. She's not little like the other sister but she is tiny in stature.

"Alice?" I ask quietly, so as not to alarm her.

"Cedric!" she exclaims, jumping up for her place on the floor. "Did you come to play with me?"

"Um...my name is Tyler." I explain carefully.

"Hi Tyler," she says automatically. "Can we be friends?"

"I'd like that very much," I tell her happily. "May I read with you?"

"Okay." she agrees easily, handing me the book. "You can read to me," she says and I stifle a laugh at her bossy attitude.

Alice crosses her legs and makes to sit back down in the floor but I stop her. My sister doesn't sit on the floor. I motion to the tiny bed in her room and she smiles and goes willingly. After a while, she cuddles next to me and falls asleep as I read the poetry to her. She snores lightly and I gingerly extricate myself from her.

Quickly, I check the room to be sure there is no rope or cords and when I am satisfied that there isn't, I take a bit of her warmth and acceptance with me as I step out the door to find the library.

Searching the corridor, I open random doors scanning for books but every room looks exactly the same. Two twin beds, two wooden dressers, white walls and white bedding. Cold and sterile. I don't like it that Alice lives like this, my sister deserves better. I feel the anger coursing through my veins and I am relieved. Angry is how I function best.

Hearing voices down the hall, I draw closer. The voice is sweet like honey and vaguely familiar.

_Bella_.

As I near the door, I hear her sobs and suddenly everything in my vision turns red, violence pumping through my veins. I listen at the door for a moment as Bella cries and begs Carlisle for a book and he adamantly refuses.

"Oh hell no," I yell, throwing the door open and bursting into the room.

"Edward," Carlisle and Bella both gasp out in surprise.

"Wrong," I tell Carlisle with a smirk. Keeping my eyes on him, I slowly move to stand in front of Bella. I catch a small glimpse of her as I enter and quickly evaluate her safety before turning my gaze back to Carlisle.

As much as I want to keep control, I can feel it slipping. Edward has always been better with the control but, then again, that is not why I was created.

"Anthony?" Carlisle asks.

"Not a chance," I answer him.

"You don't want to be called Edward today?" Bella asks from behind me.

I slowly pivot to face her, keeping Carlisle in peripheral. When I see her, I am immediately smitten. Sure, I knew what she looked like through Edward but no words were adequate. More than her heart shaped face and warm, intelligent eyes that glowed around with the edges with too much seen pain. The pull to her is strong and unrelenting.

"Tyler," I tell her, feeling nervous all of a sudden.

"Tyler," she says tasting the name on her tongue. "My hero," she whispers, smiling.

I can't help but smile back. The reaction is immediate. She's like a conduit for emotion. She's happy, I'm happy. It's that easy. I see movement and I am reminded of Carlisle's presence. She cries... I'm pissed... I remember, turning back to him.

"Tyler," he pronounces carefully moving slightly closer to me.

"Is this about the books?" I ask harshly. I'm not afraid of him and I won't cower.

Carlisle's gaze flickers to Bella but I step to the right and block his view. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare defiantly at him. An eternity seems to pass as I wait for him to speak. When it becomes clear that he will not, I sigh.

"Edward said this situation was getting out of control," I mutter, shaking my head.

"Tyler," Carlisle questions, making another step toward me. "You spoke with Edward?"

"Don't even try it!" I yell, backing away. "No need to bother with the examination, doc. Despite what Edward has convinced himself, you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved."

"You could do worse than have someone want to save you Tyler," Carlisle insists.

"I don't need to be saved from a fucking thing," I shout, my anger surging again.

"Tyler...," he starts again, but I cut him off.

"No! Look at her," I yell, stepping back to allow him to see Bella. "You made her cry over a fucking book. Why can't that be the most important thing for one second?" My voice rises with every word and my hands fist at my sides.

"I heard her pleading with you. Begging! Why aren't you listening? Why aren't you...riveted?"

"Now, Tyler," Carlisle says, holding up a hand to silence me. But his eyes do not hold mine. I watch as he reaches for a button under his desk to call for security.

"Fuck this!" I yell and grab Bella's hand, pulling her up and out the door.

Carlisle calls out our names but makes no move to stop us as I knew he wouldn't. He'll send Felix and Emmett for us, instead of sullying his own hands. Pussy!

I know inevitably they will find us, but first, I plan to take full advantage of my time with Bella before that happens. I pull Bella into a room I know to be empty from my previous search. Shutting and locking the door behind us, I slowly stalk closer to Bella. Keeping my movements as slow as possible, I stop before her and raise my hand to cup her cheek.

"Bella?"

Leaning in, I brushed my lips softly across hers but before I can deepen the kiss she pushes me away.

"Wait! Are...are you Edward's twin?" she asks, looking at the floor.

Laughing, I reply, "no".

Bella remains quiet, watching me speculatively and waiting for me to elaborate.

Sighing heavily, I responded on the defense. "Edward said you didn't want to know. He told me you said that it didn't matter."

"It doesn't matter. I just...I want to know that I'm not..."

Realization dawns on me and I have to bite back a laugh. "You want to know that you're not cheating on him." Shaking my head, I murmur to myself, "Priceless."

Bella huffs, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at me.

"Look, Edward and I...we are intertwined."

"Intertwined?" she asks, her brow creasing in confusion. Suddenly, understanding lights her face and her mouth pops open as she gasps. "Oh! You have...you are... oh!"

"Say it Bella."

"Split personality," she says meekly.

Shaking my head no, I ask. "Have you ever heard of Hathor?" Bella responded with a quiet no and so I continued. (**I took a few liberties**)

"In Greek mythology, Hathor was the god of love, beauty, happiness and fertility, also the god of the sky and the heaven. He was everything that is true and good. Hathor had many personalities, some say as many as eighteen. He assigned each of his multiples a task or job that they were to oversee. There was one to excel in creativity, one who planned battles, another to uphold justice and even one whose existence was purely to protect the others.

"Do you understand, Bella?" I ask tentatively.

"Where did you hear that story? Do you believe that? How many personalities do you have? How can you be sure?" Bella fired off questions rapidly.

I just shook my head. "I'm...undecided." I told her, answering all of her questions at once.

"What are you undecided about?"

I thought for a moment but then respond with the truth. "Everything."

Bella giggles loudly and the sound is contagious. Then comes the rattling of the doorknob. We've been found. She steps toward me quickly and fists her hand in my shirt. "Hurry and kiss me, Tyler. Now!"

Who am I to deny her? Bending my knees slightly, I press my lips firmly to hers. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pull her flush against my body and squeeze her tight. She feels so good. Fireworks explode behind my eyes, my heart beats furiously, and every voice in my head sighs.

The door bursts open but I do not pull away. I take her top lip between mine and suck lightly before placing three soft pecks there. Bella's chest is heaving, her breathing deep and uneven. I grin at her and she grins back. Just a little quirk of her mouth and I am filled with contentment the likes of which I have never known.

A throat clears and bursts our bubble. Emmett doesn't appear upset though. He smiles broadly, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Come on guys, I'm supposed to take you to your rooms until lunch."

Parting with Bella is difficult but Emmett insists. When I told him he can go fuck himself, Bella puts her hand on my shoulder and says she would like to take a nap. She does need her rest, I remind myself. So, I kiss her lightly on the cheek but hold on to her hand while her body moves away from me. Her arm extends all the way straight out from us and her fingertips slip through mine. I stand there with a stupid grin on my face until she closes the door behind her. Then, I allow Emmett to lead me to my room as he makes wise cracks about lovesick fools.

Back in my room, Jasper and Alice are strategizing. It's good to see my friend and my sister again. No one gets me like they do. And now Bella. I finally understand why Edward is putting up such a fight about love, and honor, and family. This feels good. I feel peaceful as I sit here on the bed next to Alice, her head on my shoulder as Jasper points out fire escapes on a laminated paper by the door.

Soon, Emmett knocks to let us know it is time for lunch. We sit at a table together with Rosalie even joining us, making sure to save a seat for Bella. Meatloaf and green beans are on the menu and I feel as if I haven't eaten in days. When she arrives, I take her hand immediately in my own and hold tight. Jasper points out what he calls superior officers as we eat one handed, sneaking smiles at each other.

He motions to a man named Riley who is sweeping the floor. Riley has dirty blond hair and steel blue eyes that shifted nervously around him. Then, he points out Esme, Carlisle's assistant. Her hair is piled up on her head and her eyes are soft and warm as she moves about the room speaking kindly to people. I understand why Edward likes her.

Jasper draws my attention to a couple, Ben and Angela, whom Alice mentions are the art therapy teachers. They are sitting very close, Ben's hand high on Angela's thigh. I shake my head, feeling myself blush hotly. The last person he makes notice of is a young woman named Lauren.

Lauren, he says is a trustee. Bella leans closer and whispers that Lauren is another patient just like us but because she has nearly completed her treatment the staff allow her more responsibility, judging whether she is stable enough to be released. Lauren has curly red hair and is apparently an avid reader. Very interesting.

Jasper tells me everything I need to know when he mentions that Lauren has been locking the office doors at night. She sits, reading until the afternoon staff is gone for the evening, leaving only security and nurses. Already the plan is being made to obtain Bella's book. Plan B, if you will. Edward thanks me quietly for my help and I feel pride radiating through me from the _others_.

With lunch complete, we empty our trays and part ways with our friends. I walk Bella to her room and because I'm not sure when I will have the pleasure again, I pull her to me and kiss her softly. Before she can pull away, I nuzzle her neck and whisper in her ear.

"For what it's worth, I think you're really amazing."

Bella smiles wide and kisses my cheek before saying goodbye and slipping away into her room.

The others frenzy over the book. Georges volunteers, stating he knows the young woman's type. Although there is much deliberation due to Georges track record with women, it cannot be denied the he gets results. The decision is made and the voices quiet.

With a plan finalized to retrieve the book for Bella, I lie on my back, on my bed thinking of what Edward has been talking about in a whole new light. Some of the others have been helping but we are not united. I, myself, have remained skeptical and stayed aloof.

I didn't listen enough before when he gave his wordy speeches like a professor. What did he expect me to do, take notes? Well, maybe I should have. I knew that Edward had been leaving clues, using the journal physically and Polaroid snapshots mentally, for Anthony giving a piece at a time slowly to fill him in on all that he lost during his hiding. And Anthony has lost much, assigning a new personality to serve each of the functions a normal person needs to survive so that he effectively outsourced himself.

I resolve to speak again with Edward and learn more now that I see firsthand the importance of his mission.

Soon, my thoughts drift to Bella. Warm brown eyes, pale white skin, and soft lips float through my head as I slip off to sleep with a smile on my face.

*~*~*~* Georges*~*~*~*

When I awoke it was dark. The chap in the bed next to me was snoring softly and mumbling military ranks in his sleep. Without wasting any time, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. I have a job to do and I relish the thought. Not because of this Bella Swan. Not because of Anthony and the plan. Certainly not because the others wished it so. No, I am doing this job because it is what I am good at.

Tyler, of course, could not handle this assignment. What was Edward thinking? If you want something in this life, you don't ask someone to help you or send someone to find it. No. You simply make a woman give it to you. The others may be well acquainted with failure and disappointed but these irrational emotions, I simply do not accept. I will complete this task to the best of my ability and I will enjoy myself implicitly.

I saw the girl, Lauren, in Tyler's thoughts. I've seen a hundred exactly like her. Weak and pathetic, just waiting for a man to come along and give her worth. For a woman is only good as long as she brings pleasure to a man. A woman brings a man dinner and keeps herself primped and if she is lucky she becomes a wife, otherwise she is useless.

This will be simple, I thought with an evil grin, as I slip from the room toward the administration offices in search of Lauren. I find her exactly as predicted, sitting cross-legged in a swivel chair with a novel in her hands. She looks up over the top of her book, spotting me and immediately licks her lips. Perfect.

"Hi," she says flirtatiously. Putting her book down on the desk, she twirls a lock of hair around her finger.

"You have something that I want," I state clearly.

Her eyes roll back and she moans softly. "Anything."

"No need to be mean, Georges. She's willing," Edward's voice cautions but I have ideas of my own.

"Indeed she is," I answer him.

"W-what?" Lauren asks, looking around for whom I speaking with.

Without responding, I close the distance between us.

"You have something I want Lauren. Is there anything I have that you want?"

Her face reddens as looks around once again to be sure everyone is gone. "Please. Fuck me. It's been so long and you're so beautiful," she whispers, standing and throwing her arms around my neck.

"Of course madame," I smile, knowing I shall win my prize.

She glances down at my lips and then back to my eyes, considering. "What is it that you want?" she asks timidly.

"The book that you were reading. It belongs to me now," I tell her.

"But...but Dr. Cullen said not to share my books with other patients. I could get out in trouble and get my privileges suspended," she says quickly as she considers the consequences. "I might not get to leave on my designated date."

Bending down, I capture her lips before she can continue. Lauren opens her mouth readily to me and I allow her to taste my tongue. Ending the kiss abruptly, I pull back and smile at the lady. "Then I'll make damn sure it's worth it."

"Okay," she breathes out, staring into my eyes as if I were a snake charmer and she the serpent.

I sit in the swivel chair she has vacated and pull her onto my lap, right against me. Kissing her gently, stroking her neck, shoulders and down her back. Stroking her breasts on the outside of her shirt, I could feel that she is not wearing a brassiere. She becomes quiet when I do this, and I smile again, as I toy with the new-found knowledge of the secrets within her body.

I pull off her shirt and begin to kiss her, all over, until she murmurs that she thinks she might die. I laugh and help her to stand, watching as she pulls off her pants and panties. Lauren's cheeks turn bright red, as she gazed down at me and then away. Clearing my throat to get her attention, I tell her to relax. My fingers wander over her body and take her breasts, stroke them, kiss, lick, and suck them. And as I do, my fingers continue to wander down, until I reach her soaked clit.

Lauren's fingers begin to pick at my own clothes. "I want to see you now, and be allowed to explore," she says in a rush, her breath washing over me.

She kisses down my neck and over my chest and nipples. Lifting my hips to accommodate her, she removes my seems surprised to find me mostly hard already, but wastes no time wrapping her hand around my impressive cock.

I sigh as she strokes up and down, enjoying her eager exploration. My hands wrap in her hair as my hips lift up. She rubs my cock against her lips, I kissing it lightly. Her eyes are tender, as she watches me through her lashes. Parting her lips, she sucks me into her mouth. Her fingers entertain the bottom of my length while her mouth adjusts to the feel of sucking and licking a hard cock. After a few moments, I pull on her hair and ask if she is determined to make me cum or if I get to fuck her. She blushes but stands and climbs into my lap.

I kiss her again, until I feel her relax once more. Leaning up I press my lips to her ear. She shivers as my cock begins to rub between her legs. Positioning her above me, I search her eyes to be sure she is ready. She nods in response to silent question and she is so wet that I slip inside of her, deep and fast. When we are level, she kisses me hard, and I slide my hand between us to rub her clit.

Knowing she is ready, I begin to move her up and down my shaft, fucking her in earnest. I would lean down and kiss her, filling her completely. Then lean up to fuck her hard, massaging her breasts. Lauren was panting and sweating, as I pressed into her. Groaning, she parted her legs more, wiggling as she came hard on my cock and I followed, spilling into her.

"You were worth it," she says coyly, standing and handing me the book from the desk.

"Merci," I say, stepping away from her to pull up my trousers. Finished now and with my prize in hand, I am ready to escape.

"When can I see you again?" she asks, not bothering to hide the hopeful tone in her voice.

"Never," I tell her honestly, if callously. "We both derived what we wished from this encounter. You have nothing else to offer me and I've no further need for you."

Her face falls and her bottom lip trembles, which only causes me to laugh.

"You...you're crazy," she says bitterly but not without astonishment.

"Vous n'avez aucune idée," I call over my shoulder as I exit the room.

Looking down, I take note, for the first time the title of the book I carry, 'Cosmopolis'. Chuckling humorlessly, I slip through the bedroom door. Hiding the book between the mattresses, I sprawl myself out on the bed and take pride in the fact that I accomplished my goal and was very generous with the lady.

"Our angel," Edward dramatically responds.

"Let me help you with your wings," Tyler, ever ready for a fight, throws in sarcastically.

"Je suis pas un ange," I tell them bitterly. "But you'll never see me fall from grace."

Disgusted with the internal debate, I roll to my side, hoping Tyler and Edward are finished berating me. However, it is neither of them that speaks next.

"Do you think that sometimes the angels forget to pray for us?" Cedric speaks in a small, clear voice that rings out and echoes through my head. Nothing but silence follows Cedric's observation. Not one of us knows the answer to his question but I, for one, suspect the boy is correct.

*~*~*~* Dr. Carlisle Cullen's POV *~*~*~*

As I am heading out for the night, I see Anthony slyly walking through the halls. His demeanor is not that of Edward, nor is it the Tyler personality that I had met earlier. This one is different, and one I haven't seen before.

This Anthony is different. He has an air of arrogance about him and the way he walks. He is walking tall and carries a smug smirk on his face like the cat who finally ate that canary. There is just something about him that sends a chill down my spine.

I stay out of his sight as he lurks through the shadows towards his room. He is keeping one arm still as though he is hiding something under it. I wonder where he's been and what he was doing.

What bothers me more is that I don't know this personality. I pray that he is not a dastardly one, but something tells me that he is up to no good.

I immediately walk the opposite direction and take the long route to find Felix. I hope that he knows something about Anthony that will help.

I finally find him walking onto the floor from the stairs.

"Uh.. hey, Dr. C," he says.

"Felix, do you know any new information about Anthony Masen?" I ask, praying that he was looking for him.

He shakes his head and responds, "No, sir. Upon last check before my break, he was lying in his bed asleep. Is something wrong?"

I rub my brow in frustration. "Thank you, Felix. You can get back to your station."

With a disappointed huff, I walk back through the halls, trying to think of who Anthony is and what he may have done. I pause by Bella and Alice's room and glance inside in hopes that he was visiting one of them.

As I peek in, I see Alice curled into a little ball, covered in her blankets and desperately gripping onto a stuffed bear that Emmett gave to her for her birthday. Bella is leaning against the wall at the head of her bed, looking towards the window and desperately fighting off sleep.

My next stop was Rosalie's room. She is laying down, her eyes open, and murmuring to herself. She appears worn out and exhausted.

I walk through the halls checking room after room with no luck of seeing Anthony. I go to his room and crack the door open. Jasper is snoring lightly, on top of the blankets, wearing his pajamas and boots. He grips tightly onto a sword that he made from the cores of bath tissue rolls.

I step further into the room to get a good look at Anthony. He appears to be asleep, his breathing light. His features are smooth and calm with no trace of that personality visible. I notice the journal I gave him by his head.

I reach out for it, hesitating for just a moment, before picking it up. I start flipping through the pages, feeling guilty for doing so without Anthony's consent, but I am curious as to how he is using his journal.

As I flip through the pages, there are different handwriting present. Some of the scrawls are illegible, while others are very neat and precise. I notice that there are some drawings as well. There are splotches of red on some of these drawings. An eerie feeling comes over me as I realize that they may represent blood - the same blood seen as he witnessed his parents murders.

I shut the book and place it gently on the bed in its spot and walk out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind me. I stand thinking about what I had seen in his journal, and realize that he is repressing more than originally thought.

As I walk out of the ward, I stop and pause at Felix's desk. "Felix, would you please hand me a post-it?"

"Here you go, Dr. C," he said, holding out a blue square piece of paper to me.

I take it from him and write a quick note to Emmett, informing him that he needs to get our ward on the schedule for art therapy within the next few days.

"Make sure McCarty sees this when he gets in first thing," I say, giving the paper back to Felix.

"Yes, sir."

"Good night, Felix. Make sure to notify me if anything happens with Anthony tonight," I order him as thoughts of witnessing that sinister demeanor enter my mind again.

"I will. Good night, Dr. C."

merci = thank you

*Je suis pas un ange = I'm no angel

vous n'avez aucune idée = you have no idea


	8. Chapter 8

**8.**

**Forest Meadow Mental Health Facility**

**Physician: **Dr. Carlisle Cullen  
**Time/Date: **7:17 am, Friday, January 28th  
**Ward/Floor: **Springtide Wing, 5th floor minimum security

**OBSERVATIONS****:**

**Brandon, Mary Alice**  
Since being punished for drawing on the hall walls last week, Mary Alice has been withdrawn from everyone in the ward. She has not tried to attempt any art projects nor has she spoken to anyone other than Anthony, which is very unlike Alice. This is twice that she has experienced such a set back in a short amount of time. (refer to Jan. 19th charts) Try having Jasper or Anthony bring her more out of her shell during art therapy today. I see no need at this moment for prescribing medication for her.

**Swan, Isabella**  
There has been no progress in her growing sleep disorder. She spends most of her nights awake and fighting sleep. When she does sleep, she awakens, screaming. I think at this point, there is no other option but to start her on a sleep aid. Art therapy is not required of her today. I would prefer for her to get some rest as she seems very much on edge. Continue to administer 20mg of Prozac on schedule. Begin a nightly dosage of 2mg Eszopiclone (Lunesta) tonight.

**Hale, Rosalie**  
She seems to finally be coming out of her shell a little more, especially when she is around Emmett McCarty. She no longer tenses up when he enters a room. She has finally warmed up to a male and has told me, herself, that she sees him as a friend. Art therapy should prove interesting as she may still be hiding her true fears, afraid to talk about anyone other than Emmett. Administer her current Zoloft dosage as scheduled.

**Whitlock, Jasper  
**Running his usual morning routines, all seems normal. Nothing he's done indicates that there is any negative affects from Anthony's personality changes. That is a real positive for him. Today will be his first art therapy session. I am curious to see what it will do for him as far as what he perceives in his mind. Continue to administer Clozapine on schedule.

**Masen, Anthony  
**For the past week, he has slipped in and out of the Edward identity. He seems most comfortable with us (the others on the ward) as Edward, and to him we are all family. Tyler has resurfaced twice during times he felt there was an injustice occuring. Cedric, his innocent personality, has played with Alice a few times - the only times she came out of her shell. Giselher has not made another appearance. I have yet to witness that other identity from that night a week ago. I have asked, but Anthony's Edward claims to not know anything. After seeing the journal for myself, I wonder what he is trying to hide about that one frightening personality. I am curious to see what will come of art therapy for him. Make sure everyone keeps a close watch over him as his personality changes are becoming more frequent, and I am worried more dangerous.

I finish the chart and hand it to McCarty. "What time is art therapy?" I ask, checking my watch.

"Umm... Two o'clock, Dr. Cullen," he answers as he checks the chart and makes notes. "Are you sure you want Bella to miss art therapy?"

"I would like her to get some rest. She's barely functioning with only a few hours of sleep a day. If she can get some rest away from the others this morning, then I don't have an issue with her tackling art therapy. But rest is what is most important right now."

"Yes, sir," he replies.

As he sets file on the cabinet behind him, out of the corner of my eye something catches my attention. I turn to see Anthony walking towards me, a little excited, a little different.

"Con permiso, señor," he says. "Would you mind telling me what time the art class is?"

"I just said two o'clock," Emmett answers, not bothering to turn around.

"Thank you, handsome stranger," Anthony replies and turns to walk away.

"When did you learn Spanish, Anthony?" I ask, thoroughly puzzled by his demeanor and his language choice.

"Dali," was the answer he gave me.

"Excuse me?" I ask, confused.

He turns to face me. "You called me Anthony a moment ago. My name is Salvador Dali," he emphasizes. "I look forward to the art class this afternoon."

He turns and walks from me, leaving me confused as to when his personality had changed. His Spanish surprised me, too. This was another new personality that I had encountered recently, bringing us up to seven known personalities, including Anthony, although I have yet to meet him.

"Emmett..."

Before I could finish my thought, Emmett held out the file and a pen, clicking it. "Here you go."

"Thank you," I say as I begin to make notations in Anthony's chart. "I'm going to be in my office researching a few things about this new development. No one is to disturb me unless it's an emergency."

"Yes, Dr. Cullen."

"Please have Esme talk with Bella about getting some rest, alright?"

It was going to be a long day.

*~*~*~* Salvador Dali's POV *~*~*~*

When I woke this morning, I was outraged at the woefully inadequate attire for a genius such as myself.

"Do you know who I am?" I scream at the big brute named Emmett.

Snapping my heels together, I indignantly shout. "Salvador Felipe Jacinto Dalí Domenech."

Emmett wipes at his face, before responding. "Okay dude. Viva revolution and all that shit. Just put some damn pants on." His sentence becomes a whine at the end and I suppose I should take mercy on the chap.

"Very well," I sigh. "Bring me the white ones."

Emmett huffs, giving me a hard look but eventually walks to the bed and tosses me the white, cotton pants lying among a pile of clothes. I had tried them all on before my tantrum brought Emmett running. They were all variations of the same. White or green cotton lounge wear, with a slight v in the neckline of the shirts. These garments do not showcase my best qualities but I suppose they will have to do for now. I ponder how much these garments may have cost and feel an indescribable need to shower.

Emmett notices my sudden reluctance. "I thought you couldn't wait to get to art therapy?" he asks, crossing his arms smugly.

"Ahh yes. Art class," I remark, pulling the drawstring tight on my breeches. "Come along then. Time and Dali wait for no man," I call over my shoulder as I walk out the door.

Art class is completely bereft of inspiration. The atmosphere I desire is positively stifled and the lack of adequate materials is grotesque. The teachers, a husband and wife team, have as much skill combined as I hold in my pinkie nail.

However, they are quite a handsome couple. Their every move is a graceful erotic dance toward one another. They gravitate like magnets, slowly and sensually. Watching them is remarkable and I feel my constructive juices begin to flow.

Picking up the water colors I return to my easel. I suppose this isn't so bad. Anthony hasn't had a pressing need to express his creativity in such a long time, thus I have been neglected. It feels spectacular to have a blank canvas in front of me. After a few strokes with my paintbrush though, my attention wanders, and I begin to people watch again.

Alice, on her stool, is swinging her legs back and forth while avidly drawing varying sized unicorns with pink and purple stripes. Her attention is rapt as the point of her tongue pokes out the corner of her mouth. She is the picture of innocence and I allow it to influence my work.

Rosalie sat stiffly across from me. She pressed the brush roughly, making harsh, angry black strokes on her paper. Everything about her screamed anger, from her posture, to her painting technique, to the permanent scowl imprinted on her face. It was not the fury that infatuated me though. It was the vehement oozing of pain that dripped from her eyes that held my interest. I wondered briefly if she even realized that she was crying as she sat in front of her easel. Somehow, I doubt it and her mask endear me greatly.

Turning back to my own painting, I struggle to capture some of Rosalie's anger and sadness, as well as Alice's childlike innocence with the pieces of Ben and Angela's sexuality that I have brought to life on my canvas.

I sense Jasper's eyes on me and I know it's him. He's been staring since I entered the room. I am not bothered by this fact. I want him to watch. I like the sensation of his eyes roaming my body. It's wrong, I am well aware of this. The father made it perfectly clear. The others do not enjoy male attention the way that I always have but here in this room with his lustful eyes boring into me, anything feels possible and nothing feels improper.

Unable to deny the pull any longer, I stand and walk to where Jasper is meticulously drawing a map of Spain. He shades in some areas using the side of his pencil as I watch from behind. Slowly, I inch closer, until my chest is pressed lightly against his back.

Jasper smirks at me over his shoulder and then rips his paper from the tablet and begins an elaborate drawing of two men embracing under an apple tree. One is dressed in Confederate grey and the other in Yankee blue.

"I am Salvador Dali," I whisper close to his ear.

"I know," he says, grinning. "I've been watching you."

"I know," I say, returning his smile.

I watch him as he sketches and what I see is amazing. It's more than lines on cheap paper. What I see in his drawing and what I feel flowing through him into me is a rare and precious thing. Hope.

"Did you know, Salvador, that nothing ever becomes outdated and no one ever completely dies?"

His idea intrigues me and I gesture for him to continue.

"The past lives in us and is passed down through generations in the things we believe, the ways we live, and the way we do things. Those people, they lived wonderful lives and passed down beautiful stories. They live in the dirt below our feet, that grows the food that nourishes our bodies. Their stories are whispered in the wind that blows through the trees. Never ending."

He has spun around on his stool to face me and my hands over his hips, wanting so badly to touch him but afraid at the same time.

"That is a beautiful theory, Jasper. Indeed, I do love the way you lie."

"It is not a lie," he says forcefully, passion igniting in his eyes. He glances wildly around the room to confirm the secrecy of our conversation before whispering conspiratorially. "I can feel their souls."

"I want very much to believe you Jasper but I have witnessed many good men go to an early grave and even more monsters roam the Earth indefinitely."

"You're beautiful," he says tenderly, brushing his thumb across my cheek.

"Don't become too invested in me, Jasper. I am only one part of a whole," I warn him.

"What does that mean?"

"It means... I was born for leaving."

"Have faith Salvador," Jasper pleads.

"I have lost more than faith, my friend," I tell him. Turning back, I sulk to my seat and sit awkwardly on the edge feeling that sudden intense needs to wash myself again. Frustration and fear have taken the joy out of painting and I can no longer bear to look upon the canvas.

Ben and Angela are circuiting the room. Ben, beginning on the left side of the room and Angela on the right, working towards each other as nature apparently intended. Angela stopped before each easel complimenting something about the artists technique. Ben, on the other hand, was handing out critiques on the artwork.

Suddenly infuriated, I jump from my stool and spin around so that I have both of them in my vision. They are both approaching Jasper as they stop to stare at me. I know, if they say one word to him, I am going to lose control, so I begin to babble.

"Bravo! Bravo! Superb," I call out, clapping my hands loudly. The sound echoes off the walls causing a gasp of surprise from many of the others in the room. I know art and I understand money. I will learn nothing about either with these people.

"Is there a problem?" Ben asks, his forehead creasing in confusion.

"You clearly have no idea who I am. I am Salvador Dali. Savior of modern art." Jasper throws his head back, laughing hysterically. The sound is joyous and spurs me on.

"Do you ever think about how the terms self deprecating and self defecating are alike? Literally! I love enemas. How do you feel about weevils?" I spout.

"Salvador! This is unsuitable!" Angela exclaims, just as Emmett begins toward me.

"Fuck Suitable!" I shout, leaping awkwardly toward Jasper, I grab his hand and walk quickly to the door.

Pausing, I look at him and even to my own ears, my voice softens. Gesturing, I tell the room with sincerity, "This man is a...genius." I pull him down the hallway with Emmett following close behind us. Inside our room, with the door closed against Emmett, we press our backs to the wall and dissolve into laughter.

Unable to control myself, I slump to the floor, wrapping my arms around my stomach which aches with the force of merriment. After long moments, I am finally able to contain myself, I sit upright and gulp air to sooth my raw throat and lungs, still not able to stop the broad smile on my face.

I turn to check on Jasper's condition, sensing him watching me. When our eyes lock, I feel the same reaction in my body as the laughing fit. I have no control. My chest hurts and my throat is dry. I am powerless to remove my eyes from him and I am unable to stop the broad smile on my face.

But Jasper's not smiling. "How long do I get to keep you?" he whispers sadly.

Looking at him then, I saw a man that most never would never know. A beautifully broken man who never got to keep anything. A man who know more than he let on but found it easier to forget.

"_I can sympathize," a voice whispers._

When I hear them, Jasper's spell is broken and I sigh heavily before answering his question with the least painful truth that I can. "I don't know."

Jasper stands, pulling me with him, and we walk to my bed. Sitting cross legged, we face each other, our knees touching.

"Where are you from Jasper? I want to know everything about you." I question him eagerly.

Jasper sighs, eyeing me cautiously. "You may wish you had never met me at all once you hear this story."

"¿Qué mayor tranquilidad pueden tener los débiles que son como cualquier otra persona?" I encourage him.

"I love it when you speak Spanish, Salvador. So sexy."

His comment makes me blush and my heart flutter wildly. But part of me, the part that has heard the father's hatred, causes me to frown with worry.

"Is it wrong Jasper? What I feel for you?"

"Salvador, look at me," he implores. When my eyes meet his, he smiles gently, knowingly. "Life is ours. We live it our way."

It does not escape my notice that we seem to take turns comforting each other and lapsing into doubts. It is my turn to comfort his doubts now and I do not hesitate. "Then do not be afraid Jasper. Please, tell me your story," I beg, reminding him of my earlier question.

He sighs but maneuvers himself so that his back is against the wall, then motions for me to stretch out next to him. I follow his request obligingly and lie my head in his lap.

"I grew up an only child, on a farm in Texas," he begins, running his fingers softly through my hair.

"Were your parents mean, Jasper? Did they hate you for liking other boys?" I didn't want to know the answer but I had to ask. I just had to know if his father told him the same thing that _the father _told me.

"On the contrary," Jasper answered. "My parents were very loving and supportive, even when I told them about my bisexuality. No, the one thing that my parents didn't want, the only thing that they forbid, was the one thing I wanted most. Maybe all kids do."

"What did you want Jasper?" I asked, knowing instinctively that I would have never been able deny him.

"I wanted to join the army."

He sighed and I could feel his body shake. When he spoke again, his words were no more than a whisper. "I had no friends Salvador. Everyone at school was so mean. They would kick or push me as I walked down the halls. Always taunting relentlessly, calling me names like wussy and faggot."

I thought if I could join the army, they would teach me to defend myself and I could prove that I was a man. Then, I could be in control and other men would look to me for advice instead of hurting me. I thought it would help me make friends," he said sadly.

I give him a moment to gather his thoughts and then encourage him to continue. "What happened, baby?"

"Turned out, I was right," Jasper snorted. "I followed directions eagerly and learned well. I was a role model for others and was quickly promoted through the ranks. And then...the war started. My troop was one of the first to go into action. The enemy was everywhere."

Jasper trembled, holding my hand tighter. I know that this was the part of the story where things went bad. Bad enough to land him in a mental facility.

"I was good in the field. Always staying one step ahead of the enemy but in order to do so, I had to never stop running and I was so weary. The fighting was the worst. If I wasn't running, I was fighting and dead bodies never get any easier to handle. But it's a never ending cycle, kill and run. Over and over. I still...I still think I'm there sometimes, Salvador. I still feel the enemy after me, so close. I still see dead bodies everywhere, their blood drips from the walls. I-I have terrible nightmares."

My heart aches for him and I quickly sit up and nudge him spread his legs so that I can crawl between. I press my back to his chest and stretch my legs alongside of his. Automatically, his arms wrap tightly around me and he buries his head in my shoulder crying.

"We are much the same Jasper," I tell him, placing my hands over his and squeezing.

When he's cried himself dry, he lifts his head and I raise my hand to cup his cheek and look up at him. His eyes quickly flicker to my lips. Quickly, I look away, unsure. I want to kiss him. God, do I want. But years of the father's words and action, much like those of the children in Jasper's school, have made an impression that is hard to break free from.

"Is it wrong Jasper," I ask him, knowing he'll understand and be fearful of the answer.

With a confident smirk, he doesn't hesitate to answer, *"If you shoot a gun, someone dies. If you drop a bomb, many die. If you hit a woman, love dies but I assure you nothing will happen if we have sex, Salvador."

I couldn't help but laugh, something that rarely happens and it makes me feel lighter. Free. So, I tilt my head back and allow him access. He places tiny, chaste little kisses, alternating between my top and bottom lips, so warm and soft. I feel the tip of his tongue lick my bottom lip, but before we can deepen the kiss the door opens.

A wide eyed girl stands in the doorway, and I recognize her immediately as Bella Swan. I can see precisely why the _others _are so enraptured with her. She drips with the erotic magnetism of Ben and Angela. She exudes the same lust as Jasper. She carries the same youthful innocence as Alice but also a comfortable strength as that of Emmett. Yet, she quiet and seems to harbor deep pain and anger as did Rosalie. I see before the essence of woman. A mysterious enigma and I long to paint her.

Jasper looks unsure as I lift myself out of his lap and motion for her to come forward and join us on the bed. She sits lightly on the edge of the bed and whispers "sorry" to Jasper.

"No need to be sorry, my dear," I tell her as I collect a leather journal and pencil that are lying on the small bedside table. "I do believe I have found my muse."

Noticing Jasper's wounded expression, I rephrase. "Bella, I'd like very much to draw you. Is that acceptable?"

"Just draw?" she asks and searching her eyes, I see confusion.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Salvador Dali. It would be in your best interest to allow me to sketch you. You see, I am a genius. I do not claim to know women but I believe with your expressive face and my outstanding talent that we could make a lot of money together. I understand money. Do you Bella?"

Bella's mouth is gaping as she shakes her head slowly. Smiling, I explain happily. "It means we never have to feel dirty or be hungry again."

Bella's face softens and her eyes turn sad. "You may sketch me, Mr. Dali," she says and I look away when I see tears pool in her eyes.

I open the journal in my lap, sitting cross on my open bed across from her. I see pages already filled in the book. Pages signed by names of the _others _I know. I recognize some of the drawings and notes as the clues Edward spoke of and I shudder seeing the drawing of the water bill, dropping the journal to the floor.

Jasper is suddenly kneeling in front of me. I didn't even hear him approach. Shocked at his quick appearance, I look at him and in his eyes, I find the will to stop the shaking. He weaves a spell of calmness over me and embrace it tightly, my entire body involuntarily leaning toward him.

Bella's loud throat clearing snaps me out of my Jasper haze. Her eyes dart between Jasper and I. With the way her brow is furrowed, one would think she was solving all the problems of the world.

"You...like Jasper," she states, already knowing the answer but wanting confirmation. A large part of me wants to deny but with him in front of me, his hands on my hips, his breath fanning across my face, I am unable to hide my feelings.

"Yes."

Jasper beams, his smile igniting his face in pure light and beauty. Seeing it, I am spurred on and quickly add, "The same way Edward _likes _you."

She is silent for a moment before her nose scrunches up and she exclaims, "That's weird."

Jasper stiffens, his smile gone, he turns angry eyes to her and she quickly amends, "I don't mean like that. I mean, yesterday, I was kissing Edward. All the _others _want to kiss me..." her sentence trails off as she considers the implications.

I feel compelled to honesty. I cannot seem to stop myself. This feeling of liberation necessitates that I purge myself. "Although, indeed Edward is faithful to a fault. Not all of the _others _have as much discretion." As soon as the words are out of mouth, I realize the weight of them and their power to hurt.

Bella surprises me though. She does not scream or cry. She simply says, "I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"On the one hand, I suppose I always knew that some of them were not committed to me. Should it matter to me which ones? I am sometimes not sure of my place in their lives."

I rush to reassure her. "Bella, listen. You surround everyone thoughts. Edward, Daniel, Tyler, they love you completely. I should not have said anything but now that I have please allow me assure you that the instances I spoke of were necessary to facility certain...plans in motion."

"I am a part of the plan," she asks hopefully.

"Indeed," I answer, smiling.

She smiles too, asking, "Edward's plan?"

"Yes," I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. "Edward's plan."

Bella's brow deepens again as she asks, "Are you going to help?"

"I don't know," I answer honestly, gazing at Jasper. "If I help Edward and we all come together, I will be lost. I am only part of Anthony. None of the others like men or are as creatively gifted as I . Salvador Dali will be nothing more than a curiosity in the back of Anthony's mind. Yet, if I refuse to help Edward, I am still lost. Only one of many, never real, never permanent."

Jasper strokes my cheek, knowingly, resigned. "Sometimes you can still lose even if you really try."

At this, Bella and I both nod.

A knock at the door signals dinner and Emmett leads us down the hall. Hands clasped, myself in the middle, we follow behind. Dinner is disgusting but I am famished so although I complain, I eat every morsel. Looking forward to showering, I ask Bella and Jasper if they are ready to retreat.

Standing from the table, Jasper gasps and looks up sharply at me. "My drawings," he says in a panicked voice. "From the art room, I forgot my drawings. I want them...to... remember the time we have spent together."

I understand. I wish I could take something with me to remember him as well. "I will retrieve them for you," I promise. Lifting his hand to my mouth, I kiss his knuckles softly before sprinting toward the art room.

When I arrive, I notice that the door is partially blocked by easels that have been pushed against the wall for the purpose of cleaning the room. Lucky for me, Jasper's sketches hang on the easel just before me. However, my grab and escape plan comes to a halt when I hear noises from inside the room.

Peering around the easel, I see Ben and Angela are on the large wooden table in the center of the room. Naked, their slick bodies slide against each other. Angela, moves rapidly, rocking and impaled on top of him. Their moans fill the room, echoing off the walls as they chase their happy ending.

Their sensuality brings all my unfulfilled lust for Jasper to the surface and before I know it, I have my pants pushed down and my cock released from it's confines. Moaning loudly when I fist myself, I worry that I have disturbed them and broken the enchantment.

Angela, hears only the cries of her own voice though, wrapped up in her own world of sensation. Ben's eyes, however, dart to mine and a small smile plays on his lips. Grasping Angela around the waist, he flips her over so that he can drive into her while watching me. Quick and hard, I stroke myself as Ben and I watch each other's movements. Unable to even blink, I stare at where they are joined and pretend that it's Jasper's hands on me.

Involuntarily, my eyes roll back in my head as my climax approaches. I hear Ben and Angela's orgasmic voices and their desire fuels my own as I lose control, coming all over my hand just as Ben fills Angela.

Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes and pull my pants back into place. Ben bends to kiss Angela, winking at me just before his lips touch hers. I seize the opportunity to grasp Jasper's artwork from the easel in front of me.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Ben reaching, pulling from the floor as I pull from the easel. My prize in hand, I stand immobilized as he drapes a red silk robe around the two them and they kiss again.

My headaches like the stings of a thousands wasps as the forbidden knowledge fills me. As my mind clears and the voices quiet, a perfect photo of the father's kitchen is immortalized. complete with blood splatters on the wall and dark pools covering the ground.

An anger fills me in this instant. I am glad to have spoken to Edward before. I know exactly what I must do and it obvious to me now that never was a choice in the matter. Horrible acts were inflicted upon myself and the _others _to endure. In turn, we did a horrible thing. All of us, we all had a hand in the breakdown. Maybe we deserve to pay for what we did.

Maybe.

It's time Anthony stops hiding. Time he learns the truth of our existence and that of his heinous parents. It is only by awakening Anthony that we receive proper help and become one. United. One person who can be whole, to love and succeed and grow. With Jasper's pages gripped in my arms, I rush to the room to do my bidding.

Jasper is asleep on his bed, with his back to me, as I enter the room. The journal I seek lies open on the white metal bedside table. Lifting it with one hand, I replace it with Jasper's drawings, and smile seeing Jasper's small script on the page. It would seem he has written me a poem.

The room is darkened but not black. The moon shines brightly in the sky and I move to the window for better vision of the words.

"Ode to Salvador Dali," the title reads and my heart feels suddenly heavy as I glance over at Jasper. I take comfort in the fact, that if this mission of Edward's is accomplished, most likely Jasper will be a lifelong friend. At least that is something, a form of love. Bending my head, I read his words.

.

Oh Salvador Dali, of the olive-colored voice!

I do not praise your halting adolescent brush

or your pigments that flirt with the pigment of your times,

but I laud your longing for eternity with limits.

Sanitary soul, you live upon new marble.

You run from the dark jungle of improbable forms.

Your fancy reaches only as far as your hands,

and you enjoy the sonnet of the sea in your window.

When you take up your palette, a bullet hole in its wing,

you call on the light that brings the olive tree to life.

The broad light of Minerva, builder of scaffolds,

where there is no room for dream or its hazy flower.

You call on the old light that stays on the brow,

not descending to the mouth or the heart of man.

A light feared by the loving vines of Bacchus

and the chaotic force of curving water.

You do well when you post warning flags

along the dark limit that shines in the night.

As a painter, you refuse to have your forms softened

by the shifting cotton of an unexpected cloud.

The fish in the fishbowl and the bird in the cage.

You refuse to invent them in the sea or the air.

You stylize or copy once you have seen

their small, agile bodies with your honest eyes.

You love a matter definite and exact,

where the toadstool cannot pitch its camp.

You love the architecture that builds on the absent

and admit the flag simply as a joke.

Oh Salvador Dali, of the olive-colored voice!

I speak of what your person and your paintings tell me.

I do not praise your halting adolescent brush,

but I sing the steady aim of your arrows.

I sing your fair struggle of Catalan lights,

your love of what might be made clear.

I sing your astronomical and tender heart,

a never-wounded deck of French cards.

I sing your restless longing for the statue,

your fear of the feelings that await you in the street.

I sing the small sea siren who sings to you,

riding her bicycle of corals and conches.

But above all I sing a common thought

that joins us in the dark and golden hours.

The light that blinds our eyes is not art.

Rather it is love, friendship, crossed swords.

Not the picture you patiently trace,

but the breast of Theresa, she of sleepless skin,

the tight-wound curls of Mathilde the ungrateful,

our friendship, painted bright as a game board.

May fingerprints of blood on gold

streak the heart of eternal Catalunya.

May stars like falconless fists shine on you,

while your painting and your life break into flower.

Don't watch the water clock with its membraned wings

or the hard scythe of the allegory.

Always in the air, dress and undress your brush

before the sea peopled with sailors and ships.

.

I know then that circumstances may dictate that we not have our happily ever after in the way that I would like. But if I can't have him forever, I resolve to give him tonight. Flipping the pages in the journal, I quickly sketch my clue, just as Edward had asked.

Placing the book back on the table, I shed my clothes and slip in behind Jasper on the bed. I wrap my arms around him, and kiss his neck, feeling myself harden for him immediately.

"Mmmm," he moans pushing back against me. "What do you want, Salvador?" he asks in a sultry voice that enhances my desire.

"All I need is your cock. Are you going to take it out of your pants or shall I?" I whisper in his ear.

Jasper awkwardly hastens to remove his clothes while still pressed against me and I can't help but chuckle at him.

Muttering, "fuck this" he springs from the bed and jerks his shirt off with one hand while the other pushes his pants down his legs. I gasp as he stands before me naked. I almost can't keep my eyes from his cock, long and thick, it juts out from his body. His tongue darts out to lick his lip and I see he has noticed my cock that silently weeping for him.

He climbs back onto the bed and kisses me roughly. "Are you sure?" he asks, with a heavy breath.

"Yes," I answer immediately.

After a few more kisses, Jasper turns and lies opposite but parallel to me on the bed, placing our mouths level with with each other's prominent erections. Tentatively, he slides his tongue up the base of my cock. I stare down at him, frozen and lost. My brain connected to nothing but him as my hips move on their own. He slides me out of his mouth and I feel the chill of his absence before he plunges down again. I push against his face, more insistent now. Not able to stop myself. He feels so good and I want him to feel the same gratification.

I run my tongue across the tip of him inside my mouth, around and around, then thrust myself down on him, getting him wet. My hand moves up to the base and grabs him, firm, squeezing him with my lips.

My hand grabs his balls as I take as much of him as I can. He releases my cock as the pleasure overwhelms him and he bucks towards me and comes, hard, in my mouth. I swallow, then lick him as clean as I can and stand up, seeing that he is still hard. He pulls me back down on the bed and kisses me, open-mouthed, tasting himself.

He strokes my cock as his tongue strokes my mouth and I melt into him, wanting it all. Sitting on his knees he slowly raises himself over me. Bracing himself with one hand, still stroking, he gazes down at me. "Do you want this?"

"More than anything," is my response before his lips crash back into mine. What starts as something harsh with teeth evolves into sweet and loving.

Parting for air, he turns me around and bends me over. He pulls my ass cheeks apart to see my tight hole. He puts his mouth to it and my body jerks feeling his tongue begin to ease into me. Groaning, I push back. Just as I relax, he pulls away and begins to use his finger to open me more.

I feel a slight burn at the intrusion but the pain is small compared to the pleasure. Slowly he slips in another finger, spitting down my ass crack. Turning, I see him watching it run down to his fingers where they are pushed into me. When he thinks I am ready, he sits on the edge of the bed and turns me into his lap, facing him.

"Sit down on my cock," he says huskily. Eagerly, I straddle him and lower myself onto his hardness. I swear it had grown bigger since I had held it in my mouth. I feel the head of his cock slide into me and my tight hole grasping it.

His face was all screwed up and he was biting his lip. He pulls my hips down and I take a sharp intake of air and I slide straight down onto him, in one move, yelping loudly as the pain overrides everything else for a moment. Jasper holds me close, whispering for me to relax.

Finally, I am able to heed his words and as the pleasure increases once again, I start to ride him up and down slowly. I can feel my ass relaxing and accepting his cock. He runs his fingers up and down my back and lean closer to press my cock against his chest for friction. I've never felt so good.

"You're so hot and tight baby," he grunts in my ear, before biting down on the lobe. "I want you wet and slippery with my cum," Jasper says and it is nearly my undoing. I know I'm not going to last much longer, especially if he continues the dirty talk.

I ride him up and down, faster now, my cock against his belly, oozing pre-cum. Lifting myself off him until his cock is just at my opening and then plunging all the way back down in one stroke, again and again. Jasper screams he loves the way I feel and I know just what he means as I am convinced that we have entered heaven together.

Feeling my balls begin to tighten up, I go faster and faster. "Please come. Please come," Jasper chants, taking my cock in his warm hand. With one more lunge, I explode, shooting long heavy streams of cum across Jasper's chest. Feeling my ass tighten, Jasper mutters incoherently, as he empties himself into me.

He stills, whispering my name before opening his eyes and meeting mine. He kisses my nose, then smirking removes his hand from my cock, lifting it to his mouth and licking it clean. Panting and sweating, I moan loudly when I feel his still hard cock jerk inside of me.

Jasper just chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. He maneuvers us to lie back in the bed, after using his discarded shirt from earlier to clean us both up. Wrapped up in each other and holding tightly, we succumb to exhaustion with smiles on our faces.

***~*~* Carlisle Cullen's POV *~*~***

"Are you almost ready?" Esme asks as she pops her head into my office.

I smile. "In a moment, I need to finish up on Anthony's notes."

With an understanding nod, she requests, "Don't take too long. I'm going to check in on the girls and say goodnight."

"I'll only be a few moments," I assure her.

As she leaves, I turn on the voice recorder and begin my final notes for the day.

"This new development with Anthony today has me concerned. I had always heard of a dissociative identity patient picking up an accent or even speaking in a foreign language under a certain personality, but until today, I had never witnessed that for myself. Not only did Anthony speak Spanish, he also became one of the greatest artists in the nineteenth century, a rather odd choice for someone who is in his age group.

"Something else struck me as odd about Anthony. I have noticed that in whatever personality he takes on, he manages to bring in his peers in a way that I can't explain. For example, the Edward personality has Isabella Swan interacting and talking as though she were a normal teenage girl.

"I am concerned at how it seems every one of Anthony's identities that appear has pulled Jasper in so easily. No matter what Anthony does, Jasper follows. Today, Jasper and "Salvador" appeared as a couple, holding hands and exchanging knowing glances. I need to talk to him. I've got to find out how Anthony is able to pull him in like that.

"And while it's nice to see Jasper interacting in such an outgoing manner with someone as he had never done before, it's very concerning as well. I am afraid that things will go too far one day and ..."

I stop there, deciding not to make assumptions. I make a note to speak with Jasper in the morning and find out where his mind is and try to see how much influence Anthony has over him.

I walk to my office door and turn off the light. I need to go home and get some rest, and try to sort out my thoughts before the morning.

Con permiso, señor ~ Excuse me, sir.

¿Qué mayor tranquilidad pueden tener los débiles que son como cualquier otra persona? - What greater reassurance can the weak have than that they are like anyone else?

"If you shoot a gun, someone dies. If you drop a bomb, many die. If you hit a woman, love dies" ~ Pirate Radio

"I love the way you lie" ~Eminen/Rhianna

"Born for leaving" ~Zack Brown Band

**Poem is the original work of Frederico Garcia Lorca


	9. Chapter 9

**9.**

**Forest Me****a****dow Mental Health Facility**

**Physician: **Dr. Carlisle Cullen  
**Time/Date: **7:12 am, Friday, January 29th  
**Ward/Floor: **S. Meyer Wing, 5th floor minimum security

**OBSERVATIONS****:**

**Hale, Rosalie  
**Art therapy yesterday seemed to have helped Rosalie. She has been more vocal with the others and has spoken with Esme about a few of the details of the rape that led to her PTSD. It seems that getting out some of her anger through artistic means has been beneficial. Consider scheduling her another art therapy session next week. Administer the current dosage of Zoloft as scheduled.

**Swan, Isabella  
**She seems confused by the events from the previous day concerning Anthony. Volturri noted in the night charts that she was crying and asking herself questions about the Edward personality. It was also noted that she didn't sleep either. I wonder if her dosage of sleep aid was administered. Check around her room to make sure she actually swallowed the medication she was dosed. Continue to administer Prozac on schedule. Administer Lunesta as scheduled, making sure that the dosage is swallowed.

**Brandon, Mary Alice  
**Art therapy did wonders for her. She has been back to her childlike, happy self since. She welcomed me as though I was her dad coming home from work. I am glad she is no longer withdrawn. Enroll her in the twice a week therapy class. Hold back on prescribing medications while art therapy is introduced.

**Masen, Anthony  
**The Dali personality was a surprise. I am curious to see how many more identities Anthony possesses. It seems that Anthony is charismatic, no matter what personality is present. He has yet to show me the real Anthony, making me wonder if he is too far buried and gone to ever come out. Make it a priority to have a one-on-one discussion with Anthony sometime today.

**Whitlock, Jasper  
**After his odd behaviour brought about by Anthony's Dali personality yesterday, Jasper has not been himself. Not only did he not complete his nighttime ritual of a perimeter check, McCarty has informed me that he has yet to do his morning check as well. This is the first time since he's entered into our ward over a year ago that he hasn't completed these necessary tasks. McCarty also informed me that he slept in the same bed as Anthony all night long. A one-on-one session is needed with him ASAP to document his current state of mind. Continue administering Clozapine on schedule.

I hand the morning charts off to Emmett and ask, "Where is Jasper now?"

"He's sitting in the common room watching TV, I think."

I take a deep breath and thank Emmett. As I walk towards the common room, I am concerned for what state I might find Jasper in. He has done so many things these past few weeks that is out of character for him. I just pray that his condition hasn't worsened.

To my surprise, I walk into the room and see Jasper actually watching TV just as Emmett had informed me. I stand in the back of the room and watch as he laughs at a Seinfeld episode that's playing. He flips the channel to a Sponge Bob cartoon and pauses before laughing again.

After some time of observing him acting nothing like the soldier I know, I clear my throat. "Jasper, would you mind coming with me to my office? I'd like to speak with you if that's alright."

He turned to me and smiled. "Of course, Dr. Cullen," he said, his Texan accent flaring. It was the first time he hasn't addressed me as sir.

We walk silently through the halls towards my office. We enter the room, and I motion for him to sit as I close the door.

He sits on the couch - another surprise since he's never chosen that spot before - in the corner of the office. "What did you want to talk about, Dr. C?"

I take the chair across from him. I want to pull out my pen and pad, but I am afraid doing so will make Jasper's new found confidence recede back to nervous and uncooperative. I figure that I would put the ball in his court first, and let him lead the discussion before asking him anything.

"Is there anything you'd like to discuss about what's been going on these past few days?"

He starts by telling me about his past - his real past. He discusses fighting in Iraq and not remembering anything but tiny flashes of the occurrences after his helicopter was shot down during a rescue mission. I already knew most of that information from his files, but hearing it from him, somehow, made it all different and new.

"Tell me about your relationship with Anthony."

A small smile appears on his lips before he explains, "Anthony is like no one I have ever met before."

"Are you saying you're in love with him?" I ask, wishing that I could take notes as we spoke.

Jasper's smile grows as he speaks. "For the first time in a long time, I feel close to someone, especially Dali. I'm not sure that you know this about me, Dr. C, but I am bi-sexual."

"I was unaware," I say, making a mental note.

He nods and continues to explain that he has never felt for anyone the way he feels for the Dali personality. He tells me that he's fully aware of the situation and that if he could control the situation, he would choose Dali to stay forever, as it makes him feel alive... a whole new person.

"I understand that Dali is just one piece to Anthony. I know that he won't be around very often, but I think he truly understands me... the real me. The gay. The straight. He doesn't pass judgment. There's no pressure. I can just be myself."

As he continues telling me about his adoration for this newest personality, I can't help but feel for him. I can only determine that Dali has brought about Jasper's lucidity. I am meeting a whole new being. He's as intelligent as always, but more confident in his thoughts.

He finishes talking about Dali and asks, "Is there anything else? I kind of wanted to catch him before he goes."

I shake my head and show him to the door. "I'll see you later, Jasper. Thank you for your time."

My smile quickly disappears after he leaves. My heart breaks just a little as I come to terms with Jasper's mindset. His moment of lucidity will soon pass as it does with all schizophrenics, and Major Jasper Whitlock of the Confederate Army will be patrolling the halls and courting Miss Alice once again.

*~*~* **Anthony's POV *~*~***

_Wake up Anthony._

My eyes snapped open at the sound of the voices but there was no one near me, all was quiet. A dream. Yes, it must have been a dream that woke me. I was grateful for the peace surrounding me and lie very still so as not to disrupt it.

I recognize the small white hospital room and think of the brunette who had called me Edward. I wonder who this Edward is, he is one lucky man. I've never had a girl look at me like that. Hell, I've never had a girl even look at me before. Why would they? I have no talents, no money, nothing special about me all. My memory is for shit and I lose large chunks of time. Having a hard time dealing with any type of stress, I withdraw inside myself a great deal. Now, apparently I have hurt myself somehow again. I'm always doing that, waking up with large bruises, cuts, and, a few times, broken bones. What girl would want my forgetful, clumsy, stupid ass, I wonder, snorting aloud.

A low moan alerted me to another's presence. Turning my head to the right, I see the blond man next to me, smiling. Oh God! His smile turns salacious as he shifts closer, causing the sheet to fall away, revealing two naked bodies. Oh God! Panic overwhelms me and I spring from the bed. Did I? Did he? Did we...?

Then I see it and suddenly the shock of waking naked in bed with another man seems very insignificant. A small, quarter sized bloody spot stains the sheet. It doesn't matter where it came from, and it doesn't matter what caused it. All that matters is the memories flooding my brain. Picture after picture is shown to me as voices plead.

It's too much, I can't understand what they are saying, all the words running together. I tune them out, because the photos are infinitely worse and remind me of the journal I had found. I didn't want to know those things and I don't want to know these but this time the knowledge is being shoved at me relentlessly. The voices grow louder again, screaming as one, many; unified.

**Do you think you can cope, you've figured me out

That I'm lost and I'm hopeless

I'm bleeding and broken

Though I've never spoken

I've come undone

It's mad season

Oh God! The voices, they are...my own, I realize just as the whole world fades to black.

**Edward**

I squint, attempting to avoid the sunlight beaming through the window. Jasper kneels by my bed with a worried expression. "What's wrong Jas?"

He immediately lets out a sigh of relief. "Nothing Edward. Everything is fine."

I quirk my eyebrow at him, waiting. I know he is withholding information. He stands and pushes his hands into his pockets, not meeting my gaze. "Anthony was here."

"I know," I tell him, sitting up in the bed. "It was time to push him a bit further. He knows now, about all of us."

"Is he going to be okay Edward?" Jasper asks carefully.

"I think so, we just have to wait and see."

Jasper nods and enters the bathroom, closing the door. Clearly he didn't care much for my answer.

I notice Jasper's bed linens have been stripped from his bed and figuring it must be laundry day, I stand to do the same. A slight burning pain quickly has me bending over, afraid to stand fully or sit back down.

Glancing at the bathroom door, I yell out. "Jasper, why the hell does my ass hurt?"

Jasper laughs long and loud before exiting the bathroom and informing me, "I spent the day with Salvador yesterday." He steps closer, and the feeling that he is going to try and kiss me pushes me backward, away from him. I don't know what to say to him. I want to call him a friend but can I have a friend? Can anyone understand that the others and I are all different? Then, I remember Bella. She's so kind and understanding. I want to believe that Jasper can be as understanding as she. And just the thought of the possibility fills me with something I never understood before; hope.

Can he really understand? Not just that the others exist but what I am trying to do to help all of us. Can he really accept that we have no control over who dominates the body? He can't just ask for Salvador and be granted access. And we can't go on like this. The denial, the memory loss, the constant headaches and blackouts. This isn't all about me. This is about _all _of us. This is about Anthony, the original. He has lost so much. He's been holed up inside of himself for years.

Having dealt with enough neglect and abuse before the age of seventeen to have turned away from the world. He had created all of us by this time. Someone to handle and specialize in every situation. Cedric holds the innocence, though tenuous, he appears in childlike wonder and can dominate the body until evil is glimpsed.

Giselher, naivety with the heart of a warrior. Richard, brazen and prideful externally, riddle with self doubt and loathing on the inside. Dali, bold, passionate and creative, yet shy and self aware. Anthony has had no reason to come forth. He has no idea what the _others _and I have done been through, what we have done.

That's the thing about abuse. You hide it and from it for so long that it becomes your world. Suddenly, you're locked inside yourself with only fear in your thoughts. Instead of escaping, you wind up living in a constant world of pain. He's also missed all of his rights of passage. He wasn't there to lose his virginity. That honor went to Georges. He wasn't there for the first kiss. That was Tyler.

I can give him all of that back. I can help him. If this plan works, it could help all of us. It will be painful. We will all burn for a while, emotionally. All the memories of ill treatment will come together as well as the good, happy memories. However, as one, whole person, Carlisle will be help, to treat and cure.

Is it too much to hope that we could possibly keep Bella and Jasper in our lives? Deciding to be direct, I look up at Jasper and try to think of how to begin. In the end, I stammer nervously.

"Uh... Jasper, _we _didn't..."

"Edward, stop, relax. I know that you are not the same as Salvador. I've met many of the others. I can tell you that the young one, Cedric, has innocent eyes and a youthful flush." Jasper sits on his bed, motioning for me to the do the same. Smiling, he adds, "He's sweet with Alice."

He taps his foot as he continues. "Georges is constantly looking over his shoulder suspiciously and he almost never smiles. He speaks French sometimes."

"Richard has pouty lips and walks with a swagger," Jasper says, rolling his eyes. "Tyler has bright eyes and bitter edge about him."

Smiling, I watch him as he speaks animatedly. It is strange to hear about the _others _from another person's point of view. I've no doubt that everything Jasper says is true. _We _exist to deal with what Anthony cannot.

Jasper frowns as he looks up at me through his lashes. "I know their secrets," he whispers.

"Secrets," I choke out, stunned.

Jasper nods. "I know some of what they have suffered and I know the final straw."

"Final straw," I repeat, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"The photographs, that they are showing Anthony. For each of them, it was the final straw, that led to...what happened." Leaning toward me, he says, "I know everything."

Shaking my head vigorously, I tell him adamantly "You can't know everything. Even I do not know everything."

"Listen to me Edward," he pleads, waiting for my response.

"You all suffered. For every good purpose each holds, you also hold a fear or pain. While Georges is quite the ladies man and a master manipulator, he also bore great humiliation. Tyler is calm and reasonable but withstood beatings. My Salvador was neglected to the point that he is fearful of any type of physical contact."

I snort, shifting on the bed. "Feels like you helped him overcome that."

Jasper smirks but ignores my comment. "The horrible tragedy, trigger that caused the banding together, for that instant, when you did it, you were one. Now you think, because the danger is gone, that if everyone confesses their sins and comes to terms with their abuse that you can once again come together as one with Anthony as a whole, cured person."

"Yes, that's the plan," I agree, fascinated that he knows so much. I know the _others _have all bonded with Bella. Although, I can't always see what they are doing with her. I hear their thoughts when they are alone in the library. I don't recall hearing thoughts of Jasper, yet it is obvious that he has become important to all of them as well.

"Oh I know about the plan," he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You're having everyone recall what their worst memory is, as well as what part they played in the incident. Then you take a mental photograph of it. Essentially, you make a memory. Then you show the picture, giving the memory to everyone of the personalities."

His words hold a venomous edge. "Jasper, we can do this. We can make Anthony whole again. Give him a real life," I try and assure him.

He huffs, throwing his arms up in the air. "That's exactly the problem."

"How exactly do you see this ending?" Jasper asks, his face twisted in grief and anger.

Snorting, I shrug my shoulders. "There are only two ways that this can end Jasper. Either, my plan works and we all learn each other's secrets and tell them to Anthony, show him there is no longer in any danger and we have brought him to a place where he can be well and we do just that. Or, we fail and we...lose it all." I finished, my voice growing softer toward the end.

"Edward," he said slowly, "I am sometimes delusional and I have hallucinations but I am not stupid," he says, raising in eyebrow in challenge of my arguing with him. "There is no coming back from that. Essentially, all the others die, leaving no memories, no..." he grasps for words. "...personality for Anthony. What you're talking about is a catatonic state. All of _you _silenced and Anthony trapped inside his mind forever."

Balancing my elbows on my knees, I hang my head into hands. "Yes," I moan out. I don't like hearing it this way. I need to believe we can do this.

"I want to help you Edward," Jasper sighs. "There is another way."

I raise up quickly, glaring at him in confusion. How can there be another way?

"I've seen Anthony's hollow eyes. He knows nothing but his name and that he is afraid."

"I know that Jasper," I interrupt, "but if we pull together, he will have all sides of personality back."

"And the memories Edward?" he questions. "You think he can handle knowing anymore?"

"Yes," I tell him emphatically.

"Edward," he said wearily, shaking his head. "Can't you see that there is nothing left of Anthony? He gave everything away to you and the others in order to keep himself alive." Jasper wrung his hands, watching me wearily. "Forgive me for being crude, but this is some Humpty Dumpty shit right here," he said, gesturing at me.

I couldn't believe what he was saying, that I can't put Anthony back together again. "What do you expect me to do Jasper?" I asked incredulously.

"Edward, the others are stronger than Anthony. They can deal better. Maybe it would be better if someone else took over. Leave Anthony in peace."

"Let me guess, you think it should be Salvador?" I spit angrily, springing from the bed and getting in his face.

Jasper crouched defensively but spoke softly. "No Edward, I think it should be you."

"Me?" I responded, stumbling back as if I had been hit. I couldn't decide if this news made me more or less angry.

"Edward, you're strong. The others...they listen to you, respect you. I know you can do this."

I snorted. "Jasper, I'm not...anything. I-I've done terrible things."

He held his hand up to stop my rambling. "You did what you had to do Edward."

Falling back heavily on the bed, I contemplate what Jasper said and then I feel guilty for even considering it. "I can't do that Jasper," I say sitting up and pulling at my hair, "I won't."

Jasper sighed heavily, sitting next to me. "I knew you were going to say that but I had to try."

Standing, I shook his hand but I needed to get out of that room and his knowing eyes. "I'm going to see Bella. I have a present for her."

Jasper smirked and waved me on. Before I made it out the door though, he called after me. "Just think about it."

I didn't answer or even turn to acknowledge him, I closed the door behind me and continued down the hall to Bella's room.

I heard their voices before I could knock. Rosalie and Bella were heatedly arguing in Bella's room and as soon as I heard my name I stopped to listen even though I knew it was wrong. I told myself I just wanted to hear her voice but really I needed to know if she hated me. Part of me hoped so, I stood right there in that spot and swore if she did that I would never bother her again. It would be as if I never existed. A larger part of me was praying to a God I wasn't even sure about for her to still love me. _Love me. Please. _

"Bella, he's dangerous, he's..."

"Rose, stop. It doesn't matter what you say. I'm not staying away from Edward."

"Bella, he has killed," Rose says, sounding panicked.

"I know, he told me," Bella says casually.

"How can you say it like that Bella. As if it means nothing," Rosalie screams.

"Rose, you don't know him. If you could see the way he loves me then maybe you would understand why I feel this way about our love."

"You sound ridiculous right now. And that's really saying something in this place," I'm growing impatient with the way Rosalie is talking to my Bella. Taking deep breaths, I reign in my control before knocking on the door.

I push it open revealing Bella sitting on the bed, biting her fingernails, twisting and turning her hands to get a good angle as she chews them down further and further. I can see that the nail on her pointer finger is already raw and bleeding.

Rosalie stands against the dresser, with her arms crossed over her chest, huffing loudly in annoyance at my intrusion. I barely glance at her before barking out. "You may go."

I take Bella's hand away from her swollen lips and kiss her palm. I never take my eyes off of hers as I sit slowly on the bed next to her.

Neither of us sees Rosalie leave but we both jump when the door slams shut, rattling the window and walls. Bella laughs nervously but I still can't take my eyes off hers.

"We should talk," I pushed out the words on an exhale.

Her gaze shifted and she dropped my hand, scooting back on the bed. "Yes, talk," she agreed, drawing her knees back up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"I brought you something," I said hesitantly, holding the book out to her, I had concealed behind my back until now.

Bella takes the book from me gingerly. "You brought me a book? How did you...?" she whispers as tears pool in her eyes. Shrugging my shoulders, I grin at her, feeling my face heat.

She runs her fingers lightly over the cover. "Cosmopolis," she reads with a laugh.

"You know this book?" I ask, a bit disappointed. I had hoped to bring her something completely new that she could lose herself in.

She watches my face intensely, thoughtfully before speaking. "The lead character in this book is a lot like you Edward."

"Yeah? What's his name?"

"Eric," she says, sadly. "He does everything in his power to ensure his own demise."

Swallowing heavily, I hang my head. "Is that what you think I am doing?"

"If you go through with this plan," she says, choking on a sob. "I'm going to lose you and I'm so scared Edward."

"I'm trying to make it right Bella. I started all of this, I have to finish it. I have to," I stressed, reaching for her. "I'm scared too, baby."

"What if this plan fails Edward and you all...die," she whispers the last word as if she says it out loud it may come true. I don't know how to explain to her that death is easy. There are much, much worse things than dying. Dying is peaceful, painless. It's living that is difficult, wrenching.

"What if you curl up in a ball and never sleep or eat again... or speak again?" she continues. "What will happen to me without you?"

"Everything is going to be alright, Bella. Please trust me. I'm never going to let anyone hurt us ever again." I promised.

She grew eerily quiet. When she finally spoke, it was barely more than a breath. "He'll hurt me if you're not around."

"W-what?" I sputtered, my body filling with rage. "Who will hurt you Bella?"

"Riley," she tells me, visibly trembling in my arms. "He pushes me sometimes and says disgusting things. But he doesn't come near me when you are around."

"He pushes you," I say back robotically, my mind unable to comprehend the violence welling through my veins.

Bella nods her head vigorously. "He said he wants to hurt me, wants to hear me scream and watch me bleed."

As she continues to explain, I'm off the bed in a second, pacing the floor with only one thought in my head. The _others_, they chant repeatedly as one united force, "kill."

"Edward?" she calls. "Edward please."

Her voice cuts through my haze and I focus all my attention on her. "I'm going to take care of this Bella, I swear."

"Okay," she agrees after a moment.

I contain my rage, pushing it to the back of my mind until I can find the bastard, Riley. The plan is already being made and I listen intently to Jacob as he does so while still focusing on Bella.

Sitting back on the bed beside her, I cup her cheeks in my hands and take a moment to relish in how perfectly broken she is, just like me. We are two halves and without the other, neither of us can ever be whole.

My reverie is broken, however when she speaks again. "Edward? I know about Jasper and Salvador. I know about Jessica and Richard and I think I know what Georges did to get this book for me."

"How...?"

"I see and hear things Edward," she explains wryly.

I nod, feeling pathetic. I can't help what they do and I am grateful to Georges for what he accomplished but I still feel like I somehow cheated on her and I steel myself for her feelings of the same.

"I'm not mad, Edward," she assures me. "I just wondered why you don't want to do..._that_...with me."

"I do Bella. Oh God, I do. Don't ever think anything less than my love my love for you."

"Then kiss me," she says, crawling into my lap and pressing herself against me.

I lightly kiss her forehead, then rest my mine against hers, staring into her eyes. Breathing deeply and preparing myself for the heaven I never thought I would experience. I rub my nose against hers before kissing her lips softly. Once, twice, three times.

Pulling her to me, even tighter, I trace her lips with my tongue. Bella whimpers into my mouth and I feel like a god. She wraps her arms around my neck, her hands fisting in my hair. Groaning, I kiss her hard, pushing all the love and pain and rage I feel into it. It's a promise for the future and regret for the past.

Breaking the kiss, we pant, as our lips still barely touch, breathing each other in.

"Let me make this right, Bella. I want to do it right. I've never done anything right before. Please, let's take it slow, so I can treasure you and prove how special you are." I plead.

She nods in understanding, her cheeks flushed pink and beautiful.

"I'm going to go take care of something and then I'll come back to you. Okay?"

She slides off my lap, still trying to control her breathing. "I'll always come back to you Bella," I swear.

Her answering smile lights up the room and my heart.

High off of love, drunk from my hate, I leave her sitting her cross legged on the bed as I close the door behind me.

Setting my sights on finding Felix, I stroll with purpose down the corridor. So intent on my destination, I nearly walk right past Jasper who is leaning against the door to our room.

He clears his throat and I jump, startled. "I was coming to find Alice. I heard," he says, seriously.

"I'm going to find Riley and teach him some respect," I inform Jasper, walking again down the hall.

"Not alone, you're not," Jasper says walking quickly beside of me. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He smiles at me and says forcefully. "You're never alone again, brother."

"Even if it means Salvador no longer lives inside of me?" I question suspiciously, referring to our earlier conversation.

"It doesn't matter. He lives inside of me now," he says patting his chest over his heart.

His fist shoots out and I bump it with my own, returning his smile.

***~*~* Carlisle's POV *~*~***

"I'm on my way right now!" I hang up my phone and make a mad dash back to the building, ruining the goal of making it home early today.

I walk into my office to find Anthony and Jasper sitting at the chairs in front of my desk. Emmett is leaning against my desk with his arms folded across his chest.

"So what happened?" I ask.

"They ambushed Riley and beat the shit out of him," Emmett answers.

"Is Riley all right?"

"He isn't talking about it. He's keeping tight lipped, Dr.C."

"Thank you, Emmett. Would you mind stepping outside of the door and waiting there?" I ask, walking around my desk to my chair.

He pushes himself off of the desk with a, "Sure thing, Dr. C."

The second the door shuts, I sit and face Jasper and Anthony. They look disheveled and angry. I couldn't understand what would possess them to act out in such a manner.

"Jasper. Anthony..."

"Edward Cullen," he says interrupting me.

"Edward... Cullen," I continue, surprised to hear my name tagged onto his. "Would you like to tell me what happened? Why are you acting out?"

They look at each other, exchanging glances. It's like they were communicating silently. _When did they become that close? _They look back to me not answering anything.

So, I threaten, "Should I transfer the two of you out of here like I had to do with Erik and Mike?"

Jasper's expression changed. He was one of their targets and I could tell that the thought of going into a ward where they might be upset him. And then he finally spoke...

"Private Biers was out of line and had to be punished, sir."

"And what did he do?"

Edward glared at Jasper, and Jasper fell silent.

I look at Edward. "Didn't I tell you before that you can tell me anything? I'm not looking to hurt you or belittle you. I just want to know what went wrong so that we can fix it."

Edward shakes his head and in a low tone answers, "He was tormenting Bella."

"Can you give me some examples of how he was tormenting Bella?"

"I don't want to talk about it in front of Jasper." He looked at Jasper and gave a small smile, giving me the feeling that he was trying to protect him.

"Well, can you both tell me how Jasper got involved with this?"

Edward looks away from him, unwilling to answer.

"I volunteered for the mission," Jasper proudly states. "I can't stand an insubordinate soldier in the ranks. There's no room in the Texas Confederate Army for a soldier like that."

His eyes told me that he was one hundred percent serious. I could only nod, unsure if Jasper acted upon his own accord or if he was pulled into the situation by the Edward personality.

"You do understand that I will have to punish you, Jasper?" I ask and he nods in response. "I would rather do that over transfer you to another unit. So I'm going to have to send you to your quarters with Emmett. I think you need some time away from everyone... (one, two, or three? I was thinking three to move the timeline ahead to have a nice day out? But you choose so I know what to write for the next chapter.) weeks.

Jasper pops up out of the chair into attention and salutes me. "I shall proudly serve out my punishment, sir."

As I call out for Emmett, Jasper does an about face. When Emmett opens the door, Jasper marches through the door and stops in the hallway. As Emmett shuts the door, he asks if I want him to return and I give a subtle nod.

Once they are gone, I turn my attention back to Edward. "Anthony..."

He once again interrupts me, correcting, "Edward."

"All right, Edward. What do you want to do?"

"I want all of us to become one whole person," he answers.

Although I was asking about Riley, this was a new development. "Well, I think that's a positive move in the right direction. Does Anthony agree?"

"Well, majority rules, Carlisle. And the majority feels it is for the best." He looks proud of his answer, like he knew in his heart that it was the right thing.

"Yes, it does. So, Tyler agrees with you?"

He looks at me, leering. "Tyler? Of course, but what does he have to do with anything?"

"When I met him, he seemed ready to fight a the drop of a hat. Is he the one who instigated this fight with Riley?"

He tells me that he was only acting in the name of love, and trying to protect Bella.

"Edward, I want to believe you," I tell him. "But I know that you aren't a fighter... an instigator."

"You didn't hear her, Carlisle!" he yells.

His sudden change in volume startles me - the Edward personality had never been loud and outspoken in such a way before. I am determined to regain control."Let's stay calm, okay. Just tell me everything so that I can understand. I only want to help you."

He begins explaining that he walked in on a conversation between Bella and Rosalie. He tells me that he was angry with Rosalie's comments about him but his anger just melted when he saw Bella. I notice a small smirk appear as he continues on with telling me about Bella and the feelings they hold for each other. They share a special connection; something he had never had with anyone before. "She understands me, Carlisle. She loves me, even though I am such a broken soul."

"She loves you?"

"She does. No one has ever said that to me before, Carlisle."

I make a mental note of that statement before I question, "And because of that, you felt it necessary to fight with Riley? It was for her heart?"

"No!" His answer is sharp, angry, causing me to glance towards the door and hope that Emmett has returned.

Trying to keep my voice calm, I tell him, "Then explain it to me, Edward. Please."

"She told me..." he stops there. His face contorts as though the act of just telling me Bella's secrets cause him such pain and torment. After a long moment of silence, he continues, "Carlisle, he tells her things. Derogatory remarks. Threats. Things that no man should ever say to a woman."

"I want to understand." My request is simple, and yet, I am afraid of pushing him to far by reopening the situation.

"He said he wanted to fuck her until she was raw. He wanted to tie her to the bed and lick her clean before he stuck his dick in her. For fuck's sake, she's a fragile human, Carlisle. She shouldn't have to go through that torture."

The whole thing seemed far fetched to me. It didn't make any sense, so I ask, "Why hasn't she told anyone about this?"

"He fucking threatened her. He said that his work record was perfect and no one would believe her. Then he said that if she did tell, he could easily get a scalpel and slit her throat to make it look like a suicide."

As he continues, I notice that his rage is coming to the surface. His eyes look as though they are black. His hands were balled into fists so tight, they appeared white. A sweat breaks out across his forehead, sparkling in the light. His teeth are clenched so tightly, his words are coming out as guttural growls.

Then, suddenly, Edward jumps up and slams his fists on my desk and shouts, "That fucker Riley deserved what he got! He wanted to spill Bella's blood, so I had to spill his first!"

I call out for Emmett, who instantly bursts through the door. In seconds, he has Edward in a full nelson. He struggles to get control over Edward, but it's not long before Emmett is pulling him out of the room.

All the while, Edward is screaming at the top of his lungs. "It's not fucking right, Carlisle! It's not right that he did that! I did what I had to do to protect her!"

And all I could do was sympathize. "I know, Edward. We'll talk more about it later."

I shut the door, confident that Emmett could get him calm. I sit back at my desk and take a few deep breaths to calm myself. With shaky hands, I pull out my recorder and turn it on.

"January twenty-ninth... Additional verbal notes for Jasper Whitlock, Isabella Swan, and Anthony Masen.

"I am sad to say that our Confederate soldier has returned in full force. His moment of lucidity was short lived and will be missed.

"I am concerned that Jasper has followed one of Anthony's personalities into an act of violence against Riley Biers, our janitor. The fact he acted in such a way truly shocks me. He has never acted out violently before now.

"Jasper has gladly accepted his punishment for his participation. He will need to be closely monitored over the next few weeks. I hate to even mention it, but medication may be necessary if signs of aggression continue.

"Anthony's personality, Edward, has now adopted my last name as his own. I understand that it's because this personality feels as though we are one big family here, and this is his way of making it so. None the less, the act concerns me.

"He did mention that he, and the other personalities have agreed to somehow come together as one. I am unsure of how this will happen, or even that it will happen. All my research points to the fact that putting the pieces together again is impossible. I don't quite know how to let him know that for fear that it will separate the personalities in a way that they will no longer communicate with one another. I can't allow that, especially after the appearance of a much darker Edward personality.

"Edward is usually calm, thoughtful, careful with his words and actions. This new side to him was angry, violent... so full of rage. He was out for blood in the name of a greater good. In other words, kill all evil to save the innocent.

"For now, Edward and Jasper will remain separated from the other patients. It's in the interest of keeping everyone safe. If medication is needed, there should be no hesitation.

"There has been a new development in Isabella's well being on our ward. I am going to call in Esme Platt tonight to come in and speak with Bella. I am hoping that she can get Bella to open up about these threats that Riley Biers has been making to her.

"We also need to get to the bottom of the issue that Bella is in love with Anthony. She needs to understand Anthony's state of mind. I'm not saying that their love would be a bad thing, but I don't want her hurt.

"I also don't want more violence on our ward. I am afraid that Anthony will act out to keep his 'fragile human', as he calls her, safe from harm. This situation will also need to be monitored very closely."

**Based on Matchbox Twenty's Mad Season

**If you could see the way he loves me then maybe you would understand why I feel this way about our love. ~Tonic

**High off of love, drunk from my hate ~Eminem


	10. Chapter 10

**10.**

**Forest Meadow Mental Health Facility**

**Physician: **Dr. Carlisle Cullen

**Time/Date: **7:22 am, Friday, February 18th

**Ward/Floor: **S. Meyer Wing, 5th floor minimum security

**OBSERVATIONS****:**

**Swan, Isabella  
**Bella has finally started sleeping nights since the removal of Riley from our hospital. She still awakens many times a night, as per Felix Volturri's observations, but seems to be suffering less with night terrors. She has confided in Esme Platt about her feelings concerning Anthony. She understands the situation more than I gave her credit for. She seemed extremely happy this morning as she told us that she is excited to see "Edward" again. Administer Prozac on schedule. Hold back on Lunesta.

**Hale, Rosalie  
**Art therapy has been working wonders with Rosalie, although I wonder if the absence of Anthony is what helped change her mood. I am thrilled with her progress these past few weeks. I'm hoping her road to recovery is stable and there are no more setbacks. Administer Zoloft on schedule.

**Brandon, Mary Alice  
**Alice has seemed depressed these past few weeks. While she and Bella have been interacting as best friends, she has told both Esme and myself that she misses Jasper and Cedric. We have been keeping her busy with art therapy and afternoon activities, but she tells us she misses her best friend and boyfriend. I just don't know who is who.

**Masen, Anthony  
**Over the past few weeks, Anthony has maintained the calmer, more personable Edward personality. Since moving him to one of the spare rooms for solitary confinement, he seems to be back to normal. He has complied with all of my requests. He has shared his journal and explained some of the writings and drawings in it. He has been doing better than expected. I am pleasantly surprised at his progress. We will reintroduce him to the ward later this afternoon.

**Whitlock, Jasper  
**Jasper has been doing well on his solitary confinement as well. He is still under the impression that this stint was for the Riley beating. He has asked about Edward a few times, and I can tell he really misses his roommate (or brother as Jasper would call him). He will also be reintroduced back into the ward this afternoon. Continue administering Clozapine on schedule.

***~*~*~*Carlisle POV~*~*~*~**

I hand off the charts to Emmett and he takes them from me with his usual morning grin. "This afternoon we'll move Anthony back in with Jasper, before we let them go outside."

"Today? You think it will be safe?" he asks, obviously worried.

"Well, we do have a nice day today. 57 and sunny. You know how rare that is around here."

He nods in complete understanding.

I continue explaining, "I would like them to be able to go outside with the rest of the ward. It will allow them to separate from the others if need be."

"Yeah, makes sense. I can't wait to have the brothers back together."

I look at Emmett. Out of my own curiosity, I ask, "Are you including yourself in that statement?"

He smiles and nods. "Absolutely. I've always wanted a big family, being the only child and all."

I clap him on the back. "That's why I'm glad you're here, Emmett. You take good care of everyone here no matter the situation. I do appreciate it."

"Thanks, Dr. C. Does that mean I can get a raise?"

I laugh as I walk to my office to start the plan to re-introduce Anthony and Jasper into the ward.

Later that afternoon, I walk into Anthony's room, He is sitting on the bed. His things were neatly folded beside him. I noticed that he was squinting.

"Anthony, are you ready to go back to your room?" I ask.

He smiles. "I'm sorry. You may have mistaken me for someone else." He answers with a very strong British accent.

I quickly apologize and ask his name.

He reaches out to shake my hand. "My name is Daniel Gale. And yours?"

"Dr. Carlisle Cullen," I respond as I shake his hand. "Nice meeting you, Daniel."

"Well, dad, I am ready to meet my new flatmate."

***~*~* Daniel's POV *~*~***

After lunch and tea, it's my turn. I don't know why I was sent here by Edward. _Collect a clue_, he said. I don't know what I'm looking for. I think he's quite lost his marbles.

_And you take care of her,_ his voice tells me while a picture of a beautiful brown-haired girl floats in front of me. I can barely make her out, but he tells me her name is Bella.

"Bella? A name befitting a beautiful creature such as her."

I wait patiently, trying my hardest not to opt for a quick wank. She is such a gorgeous girl, I can't help but to slide my hand into the waistband of my jim-jams*. I begin sliding my hand over my cock, using the pre-cum on my pecker as lube. Just as I have myself in a good rhythm, he emerges for a moment.

_I didn't send you out for this, Daniel,_ Edward tells me. _Clues, remember?_

"Bugger off, Edward," I answer. "I'm busy."

Maybe he shouldn't have told me about her… After all, she is forefront in my mind. Those chocolate eyes that hold such depth, I could stare for days into them. That long, flowing brown hair of hers, I want to run my fingers through the silken stands. Those beautiful pert breasts, I need to trace the peaks with my tongue.

When I finish, I clean the cocksnot up with a damp flannel and get dressed. There is no other option but to look presentable. It's a scary enough thing to meet all these people that I have only heard about until this point.

I'm not waiting for too long before Dr. Cullen appears in my room. _He's like a father to me,_ Edward explains.

I smile, as I felt at ease right away. Edward is calm, almost happy, and that, in turn, makes me less nervous about meeting everyone. It's been a long while since any of us had someone we could call… dad.

And so I call him dad. He doesn't hit me. He doesn't sadistically laugh or act out. This is what was missing from us all that time.

He walks down the hall, carrying a few of my things. I follow behind with my blanket and neatly folded jim-jams. Before too long, we are walking into another room that a mahusive**, dark-haired man unlocks right before we arrive.

"Hey, Edward, nice to have you back," he tells me as I walk into the room.

"Daniel," I correct him.

He nods and corrects himself, saying, "Nice to see you, Danny. Catch you outside in a bit."

I nod and turn to have my dad, introduce me to my flatmate, Jasper. He holds out his hand and tells me it's nice to have me back. I timidly put my hand in his for a polite introductory shake, and admit that I don't remember him. He nods in understanding and leaves the room.

"I do hope I didn't upset the lad," I tell my dad. "I was only being honest."

My dad does the strangest thing and smiles softly at me. He lifts his arm, and I flinch, afraid that I am in for a slap. But, instead, he wraps it around me and says, "It's all right, Daniel. He was expecting someone else to show up, but I assure you, he isn't upset."

Dad walks with me, talking my ear off and asking questions. He talks more about Jasper and asks a lot about how I am feeling. He tells me about how Alice and Bella really missed me. Emmett, as well. He lets me know that Rosalie will probably avoid talking to me, so I shouldn't be upset by that.

"Is there anything else you'd like to know before you go out with everyone?" he asks, looking a might concerned for my well-being.

"Nothing is coming to mind, but I do need to ask if you've seen my glasses. I'm having a hard time seeing without them," I reply.

He pulls out his pad and pen and jots down something, before telling me he'll have the staff looking. "In the meantime, go outside and enjoy the rare nice day we're having. If they turn up, I'll send them out to you."

I nod and nervously walk through the doors into the bright sunshine. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brightness. Strolling down the pebbled walk, I spot my glasses lying on a newspaper on a bench. I walk over and pick them up. My eyes take a moment, but then everything falls into focus.

I look out in the yard and see quite a few people are out. Silently, I shuffle into the damp grass and walk through the yard. I stop the second I recognize Bella.

_Don't bother her, Daniel. You need to find clues, _Edward's voice tells me.

"I should at least introduce myself," I say, adjusting my glasses, before I begin walking towards the beauty.

She is talking to a little dark-haired faerie. They stop speaking, probably in mid-discussion, and watch as I approach. They are both smiling.

"I'm so glad you are out!" the faerie chimes. "When can Cedric play?"

_That's Alice,_ Edward informs me. _She's Cedric's best friend and my sister._

_Sister?_ I ask him. _It's been so long since we've had a sister._

_Let's not open that can of worms right now. Just find the clue,_ he responds to my thoughts.

"Edward," falls quietly from Bella's smiling lips.

I introduce myself. "Hello, I'm Daniel Gale."

Bella quirks her head and really studies me before saying, "Nice to meet you, Daniel. Will Edward be here soon?"

"Oh, I see Miss Angela over there. I'm going to go ask when I can finish the castle that I'm making for Cedric. I'll be back in a minute." The pixie runs off, doing pirouettes and pliés as she goes.

I shrug in response to Bella's question. "I don't quite know when Edward will be back. I hope he won't be long."

"Oh." Bella looks so disappointed.

I personally can't stand when a young woman seems upset, so I quickly add, "He does care about you, you know. He thinks about you quite often."

She perks up a bit when I say that. "He does? Really?"

We were interrupted with a scream. We both turn and look in the direction of the blood-curdling octaves. There is a gorgeous blonde girl pinned against a tree. Two awful brutes are pushing at her, calling her names and making threats.

I run towards the girl as fast as my legs can carry me. Bella stays right behind me until she trips. I stop to help her, but she tells me to go help her friend. Following her request, I run on. When I get there, I reach out and pull this dark-haired boy, who is about a head shorter than me, by the white shirt. "Get your hands off of her. A gentleman doesn't hit a lady."

A blond boy yells at me, "Hey, get your fuckin' hands off of Erik, dumb ass!"

The boy I am holding onto replies, "I can take care of myself, Mike." The boy spins around and punches me in the face.

My glasses fly off and I fall back, ripping a piece of his shirt away.

"Oh, fucker, you're going to pay for ripping my friend's shirt," the Mike character yells, just as he swings back and kicks me.

I spot the red frames of my glasses on the grass, through which I see a boy and a girl happily playing together. Combined with the rough kicks to my sternum, the memories come flooding back into my conscious. It's there on the wall of my father's house… the maroon picture frame…a picture of what seems like the perfect family. My sister, mother, father, and me. We're smiling, happy.

Except, we aren't a happy family – quite the contrary. If you look closely, you'll notice that my father's grin is sadistic and evil. My mother's eyes are cold and lifeless – she's there physically, but my father broke her spirit long before that picture. My poor sister's neck shows the contusion marks from where my father had choked her the day before. My eye had make-up around it; a result of a fist to my face when I tried to pry my father away from my sister.

Later that day, he has me in my room, kicking me. He is calling me a fucking pussy for wearing make-up. The last kick has me spitting up blood, for which my father yells at me to clean before the carpet stains.

I feel sick, remembering that day.

So I ask him, _Was this the clue I was supposed to find, Edward? Here's your precious clue! Now Bugger off. Let me live one day in happiness… with a real dad, a sister, a family!_

_You did it, Daniel! I'll let you have the rest of the day, but keep that clue in your head. Write about it in the journal tonight before you go to sleep. I'm proud of you, _Edward tells me before falling silent for the rest of the day.

Three large men run up to us. One of them grabs Mike and tells one of the others to grab Erik. They were pulled back from me into the hospital.

The third large man I recognize from earlier bends down to me and asks, "Danny, are you okay?" as he checks my bones and has me follow his finger while he flashes a bright light into my eyes.

I take a few breaths to calm my nerves and answer, "Yes, I think so. Thank you."

He helps me to my feet. "You certainly are a tough one, Danny. I'm glad you're okay."

Just then the little sprite, Alice, springs up to us. "Emmett, Bella slipped in the wet grass. She says her ankle is hurt."

Emmett looks at the blonde then asks me, "Would you like to help me, Danny?"

The blonde says quietly. "It's okay if he stays with me."

The brutish Emmett turns to her. "You sure, Rosalie? I'm not comfortable with leaving you…"

She rolls her eyes and interrupts, "I'm good. He…" She falls quiet for a moment before finishing her thought. "He saved me from them."

He nods and lets Alice lead him away.

I look at Rose, completely puzzled. I couldn't understand why Emmett was fearful of leaving her with me. I would never harm a lady.

She smiles and hands my glasses to me, "Thank you for helping me… Edward."

Taking the glasses and putting them on, I introduce myself to her. "Oh, I'm not Edward. I'm Daniel Gale. I don't believe I had the pleasure of making your acquaintance."

"Rosalie Hale," she says. "I love your accent. Where are you from?"

"Guildford, England," I answer as I offer her my arm for a walk. "My dad insisted we move here to get away from it all."

She nods but declines my arm. Instead she walks towards a shaded bench and I walk along. "What did he want to get away from?" she asks me as we sit on the shaded bench. I notice that Rosalie keeps her distance from me, but I already know to expect that from the earlier conversation with my dad.

Fiddling with my glasses, I think for a moment. "I can't imagine his reasoning beyond the fact he wanted to keep his family a secret. My mum, sis…"

I trail off there. I'm not quite sure what to tell her… what would be safe to tell her, anyway. I want to be honest and open. It's what my father didn't want. So I tell her…

"My father was abusive. He killed my sister; at least I think he did. He beat my mum until she had no life to her. I was the catch all for everything that went wrong in his life. It was all my fault. The old sot even tried to claim that I wasn't his child, just to justify his beating me. I wasn't his, so it didn't matter if he hit me."

"Seriously?" Rosalie looks at me as though I am relaying a horror story.

"Yes. He was flat out bonkers, though. I look just like him," I laugh at the pure irony of it all.

She asks me about Edward and I explain that he's gone for the day. I did let her know that he would probably be back soon. She didn't seem too happy with that answer, though. She then asked about some bloke named Giselher. I explain to her that I just had no knowledge of the man, to which she replies with a sigh of relief.

As we talk, I tell her more about my home life. I reminisce about my sister and the fun times we had before her early demise. I tell her that my mother and I often avoided my father, especially since my sister's passing.

She nods, seeming that she could relate and after a moment of complete silence, she tells me, "My step-father, Royce, raped me."

My jaw drops. "Are you barking mad?" My hand instantly clamps over my mouth. "I apologize for such a rude outbreak like that, Rosalie. It's that you caught me off-guard with your comment is all." I beg her to continue.

She looks as though she is about to cry. "I don't know that I can, Daniel. I mean, you are going to judge me, they all judge me. I was popular. I was beautiful…"

"You are beautiful," I interrupt and correct all at once.

"I don't want to hear that. I don't want to be beautiful anymore. It's what makes men rape you repeatedly. It's why you have to get locked up in an insane asylum."

"Is that where you think we are?"

"Look around, Daniel. We're not in the French Riveria."

I glance around and realize that everyone is wearing pure white clothing and jackets. I glance down at myself and see that the rainbow sweater I thought I had on is gone and I'm wearing a white outfit as well.

"Well, that may be the case, but it's not why you are here."

"Oh no," she states matter-of-factly, "it is the very reason I am in here. My step-father raped me repeatedly for years. My mother was too damn drunk to give a shit. I think she drank because she knew, but she won't ever admit whether or not she did. Royce was rich beyond any amount of money you could think of, and she didn't want to lose that money and status, I guess. It's the only thing I can think of that would keep her with him.

"That afternoon… That day my life got so fucked up…" She pauses for a moment. I reach over to her to comfort her, but she shakes her head and holds up her hand to stop me.

Then she takes a deep breath and continues.

"That afternoon, my mom went to see my real dad. They were in the middle of an argument over child support. I had just turned sixteen, and my real father wanted to stop making the payments. He thought I was too old or something.

"While she was gone, I locked myself in my room and worked on my homework. What I didn't know is that Royce had made himself a copy of my key.

"Needless to say I was shocked when he walked right into my room."

I notice that Rosalie is trembling and tearful. Slowly, I reach out and wrap my arm around her. My hand rubs her shoulder as she cries. I hand her the torn piece of cloth in my hand – the same piece that ripped away from Erik's shirt.

She wipes her nose and finishes her story. "So Royce did what he always did… raping me… and left me there, telling me that I should go wash his sperm out so that I wouldn't get pregnant.

"I was at my wits end, Daniel. I wasn't thinking straight.

"After my shower, I found him asleep in front of the television. I had to do something. I thought about all the plans I had made for escaping or for making Royce suffer… I went to work.

"I walked into the shed in the back of the property. I knew the gardener kept gas in there for the mowers. So I pulled out a gas can, and took it to my room. I covered everything in there before taking the fireplace lighter and lighting it."

"Rosalie, you set your house on fire?" I ask, unable to fathom such an act myself.

"I never meant to kill Royce. It wasn't my intention. I only wanted to burn my room. I figured that if I had no room… no bed… he couldn't stick his pathetic excuse for a dick in me anymore. I only wanted him to stop."

"Believe me, Rosalie; I understand that desire to make those wretched things not happen anymore." I hugged her tightly.

"At least my parents are back together, although it's too late for me," she says in almost a whisper.

I push her back from me to look into her deep blue eyes. "Don't ever say that, Rosalie. It's not too late for you. What happened wasn't because you are beautiful. Your step-father was a prick. He was selfish and controlling and abusive to you. He would have done that to someone else if it weren't for you. Do you know that?"

She shook her head as though she didn't want to believe one word I had said.

"Look at me, Rosalie. He took advantage of you because you were young and weak, not because you are pretty and popular. And you know what? You proved that you weren't as weak as he thought. He probably burned himself for being such a complete and utter arse. Fuck him! You are a survivor. You are here, fighting and living."

I stop for a moment to try and gauge her reaction. She sits silent, tears streaming down her face. It seems that she is thinking about what I am saying to her.

Adjusting my glasses, I say one last thing, "I wish I was as strong as you are."

She burst towards me and pulls me into a hug, startling me. Then she whispers into my ear, "Thank you, Daniel. Thank you so much."

Rosalie and I spend the rest of the evening together, eventually being joined by Bella, Alice, and Jasper at the supper table. My dad, Dr. Cullen, join us with my new mum, Esme. I keep quiet as they chatter about – laughing and have a jolly time.

This is what I had always wanted. This. A family. I am ecstatic.

When dinner is all said and done, Emmett walks us all back to our rooms for an early turn in. I admit that I am wiped, what with being outside and all.

"Good night, Emmett," I tell him as I enter my room behind my flatmate. "I enjoyed your company today. I've always wanted a brother."

He claps me on the back and says, "Yeah, I enjoyed you, too, Danny. Good night."

After he shuts the door, Jasper turns to me. "So, you're not going to be here in the morning?"

I shrug. "I don't quite know. Edward sent me to do a job, and it was done. I got my reward in the form of my family's company, so I'm sure he'll be coming in soon."

Jasper smiles. "Thanks for letting me know." He collects his clothing and tells me he's going to shower.

Reaching under the pillow, I find the journal in the spot Edward said it was in. I take the opportunity to write in the journal while I am alone. My happy day quickly shrinks away as I write the memories or 'clues' as Edward says.

When I am done, I lay my head back on the pillow and reread what I've written. At some point, I drift off, seeing Edward for the first time since the morning.

"Do I have to really leave now, Edward? I was so enjoying everyone's company. I had almost forgotten what a family could be."

_Yes,_ he answers. _I know. We all miss the familial connections. It's something we all dream about._

"Who's turn is it now?" I ask. "When can I come back?"

_I can't say for sure, Daniel. It's who is needed at the time; you know that, _he tells me.

"Well, if I am not coming back for quite a while, can you at least promise me something?"

_What's that?_

"Promise to keep Rosalie safe. She reminds me so much of our sister. I'd hate to find out something terrible has happened to her… again."

_I promise, Daniel._

And with those final words – that promise – I drift off into a deep slumber.

***~*~*~ Carlisle's POV*~*~***

"Here you go, Carlise," Esme says handing me a folder from across the desk. "Other cases have been confirmed. There are other patients who require glasses for one identity, but not another. The accent is applicable, too. I think it's time to make the official call. Anthony has DID."

I take the file from her. "Thank you, Esme. I agree." I tightly close my eyes, lean my head forward, and massage the bridge of my nose with my finger and thumb. "This is something I wish I had more experience with. I'm not sure I am getting through to Anthony at all."

She walks behind me and bends down, wrapping her arms around me and the chair. "Give it time, Carlisle. This isn't an easy diagnosis, and we both know that there is no cure. I'm sure you are doing your best. Don't doubt that for one second." She pecks my cheek with her lips.

Esme always manages to say the right things at the right time. Her words make me feel better, but, deep down, I still have doubts. _Anthony has yet to appear and his other personalities have been cycling through, wreaking havoc on the other patients in the ward. If I can't get to his inner personality, there will be no chance of helping him at all._

A small, timid knock pulls me out of my thoughts. Esme stands up and walks to the door, opening it to reveal Bella.

She stands there looking at us, chewing her bottom lip. She quietly asks, "Um… If it's all right, may I talk with Esme before I go to sleep?"

Esme reaches out and pats her shoulder. "Of course, Bella. Go on to your room, and I'll be there in a moment."

Bella nods and quietly shuffles off down the hall towards her room.

"I wonder what that's about," she ponders out loud.

"She's probably still worried about Anthony. You go talk to her, and if there is anything that worries you about her state, you have my permission to administer Lunesta."

She nods and steps out of the office before I stop her by saying, "Oh, and if there is any discussion about Anthony or Edward, or whomever, let me know."

"Of course, Dr. Cullen," she replies with a wink. "I take it you'll go down and talk with him?"

I nod. She knows me all too well.

When I get to Anthony's room, Jasper is stepping out of the bathroom, freshly showered.

"Jasper, did something happen with you and Anthony?" I ask.

"No, sir," he says, snapping to attention. "If it's all right with you, sir, I would like to complete tonight's perimeter check before hitting the hay."

"You may," I answer.

He salutes me and marches out of the room.

That's when I see that Anthony had already fallen asleep. I pick up the glasses that had half-fallen from his face, close them up, and put them in my coat pocket. As I do, I notice that Anthony had fallen asleep with his journal in his hand.

The book is open to a page that bears today's date. I read about the incident in the yard. It sickens me that Mike and Eric weren't better supervised. The whole thing could have been prevented. I'm going to have to talk to the hospital director.

As I read more, I am horrified to read a firsthand account of his father's abuse. I have always known the background from the police and medical records that were sent upon Anthony's admittance into the hospital, but… But reading it from his point of view is something entirely different. I am in shock as I read about the degree of which he was abused. The feeling of terror washes over me as I finish his last words…

_Anthony, I know you wish you were dead. And after those memories, I wish the same. I never wanted to remind you of such atrocities, but Edward said it was a necessary means to an end. I'm worried for what he has planned for you… for us. ~xo Daniel._

*jim-jams ~ pajamas

**mahusive ~ immense, sizeable, very large


End file.
